


His Spirit and the Strength of His Mind

by Dragonsigma, farevenasdecidedtouse



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Crush on teacher, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsigma/pseuds/Dragonsigma, https://archiveofourown.org/users/farevenasdecidedtouse/pseuds/farevenasdecidedtouse
Summary: Recalled to the Untheileneise Court at the age of sixteen, Maia finds himself isolated from his family and continually hounded by his erstwhile guardian, a life little different from his years in relegation. The maza entrusted with the completion of his piecemeal education seems his only friend - circumstances that lead to changes that neither could possibly have predicted.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to our beta, 1010nabulation!

"The Archduke does not need a teacher. Well, he does need a teacher, but far more than that he needs a damned _friend_ ," Cala had elaborated to Dazhis some few sessions after his initial meeting with Maia Drazhar, recently recalled to the Imperial court. "From the little I know of Setheris Nelar he was one of the more deserving cases of relegation, and to strand a child with someone so vicious and outraged for eight years... the boy can hardly bring himself to speak to me, let alone question any of the arguments I put forth. Gods damn it, I would hardly know where to begin befriending him even if our ages and positions allowed for such a thing, but short of such I can hardly imagine instructing him successfully until someone else takes the initiative."

As Cala approached the classroom, books clutched under one arm in the absence of his forgotten knapsack, he did his best to recall Dazhis's words: "Thou'st said thyself he's intelligent enough. Perhaps it's only a matter of adjusting thy methods of address, or catching his particular interest on some subject. On the other hand, if thou truly feel'st unequal to the task I'll gladly accept thy recommendation for the position." Cala had hit him with a pillow at these words, laughing, but he entered the small, dim room repurposed as a classroom with a mixture of amusement and apprehension at their echo through his mind.

"Good afternoon, Maia," he said, setting his books and other accoutrements down at the head of the table where the young Archduke already sat. "Your punctuality does you credit. Please, forgive our own lateness," Cala continued, laying his books out methodically on the table to buy himself some time to avoid contact with those intense grey eyes that seemed to see so much more than anyone gave the boy credit for. ( _'The boy?' He's a handful of years younger than thee. Patronizing him is not the way to start this acquaintance._ ) "And that your things are in order. We have tried to keep your tasks thus far light due to the plethora of other things you no doubt have clamoring for your additional attention at the moment, so we hope you have not found any of it too arduous in the face of your new introduction to the Court."

"We thank you," Maia said, and then, "What have you planned for study today?"

"Well, as we have thus far earmarked days for mathematics, logic, the natural sciences, and history..." Cala glanced down at his books, blinking at a dry but usable treatise on the galvanic properties of certain spells. "To be entirely honest we are still doing our best to work out what parts of your education are wanting and which are satisfactory. You truly did not have any sort of formal educational instruction when you lived in Edonomee?"

"Our cousin taught us logic and politics, and there was history to be found in books," Maia answered, looking away. "But there were few teachers to be found in the region, and it was not seen as a necessity to teach such things to someone who would never attend Court."

The thought of the timid shadow before him shoved out of sight and mind like a spoiled child's unwanted toy, denied the knowledge and capacity for growth that ought to have been his birthright, sent an unexpected stab of pain through Cala's heart. "We will do our best to find out your areas of expertise and... less expertise, then. As well as to facilitate any subjects you would especially _like_ to learn about"

Maia looked up at that. Cala guessed that nobody had ever asked what _he_ wanted, only shoved him in the direction they thought best. "Magic has always interested us-" Maia said, but then added quickly, "though we have no talent for it."

“Thaumaturgical theory is an entirely respectable area of study for a well-rounded young nobleman. As well as a quite diverting one, if we might say so." Cala took up a leather-bound notebook filled with cheap rag paper, making a note to that effect on a page also littered with small geometric designs. "With the basic subjects scheduled perhaps we might make every fifth day one on which to focus on thaumaturgy, or on any other subjects you might consider worth pursuing. We do not know if you have any interest in music, or the arts, or theology, or any other such subjects, but now that you are at court you ought to be able to indulge the life of the mind to whatever degree you would care to and that is what we are here to facilitate." The passionate edge that had crept into his words by the end of the statement was obvious even to him, but he could not bring himself to regret any presumption.

Maia seemed to have found the confidence to look up again, to watch Cala at work with his notebooks. "Theology? We had assumed such was unfashionable, and avoided."

"We are hard-pressed to think of an academic subject outside the more popular realms of literature that has ever been considered fashionable per se," Cala said, a hint of not-unkind amusement hovering around his eyes. "But no, the study of theology, regardless of one's own devotion or views on the gods, is an entirely suitable topic for study, and one we would be happy to instruct you in. Though we admit it has never been our strongest subject."

"If it would not be trouble to you, we would like to study it, at least a little."

"Gladly." Cala made a few more notes in one margin. "We will attempt to make contact with Osmer Nelar to determine what he has taught you on the subjects you mentioned as well."

"That-" Maia started, quite clearly alarmed. "We do not think it worth disturbing him for that."

Cala squinted at him. "We imagine it would save us both a great deal of time and effort were we to know what he had instructed you in to date."

Maia seemed to weigh arguing further and decide against it. "He does not hold a very charitable opinion of us," he said at last.

"We see." _Gods dammit, I hate being right._ "We would hope that he would be sufficiently objective as to tell us of your education to date without any editorializing or hostility. Still, I imagine he would be sufficiently occupied with his own return to court to make obtaining a meeting difficult, and we see no reason to suspend any of your lessons on such an account."

"We suspect he is very much involved in his own business, yes," Maia said, a little stunned, and then, too abruptly, "You wished to review history today?"

"Yes, of course. If there are no further specific areas of study you would care to suggest we may begin from where we left off last week," Cala said, shuffling some books onto other books to produce the few historical texts he had managed to procure for his own use outside the more dedicated Untheileneise archive. Maia readily remembered what they had last discussed, and recited a creditable synopsis, though he had to pause a few times to recall the names of various Chancellors and princes.

"Well remembered." Cala settled back into the chair, reaching for his slate before remembering the stack of actual paper provided for the purpose of note-taking by the terrifying Alcethmeret steward who had seen the room furnished and somewhat aired out some days prior. "Now, following our overview of the Edrevenivadeise Conquests last week we find ourselves in the earliest days of the Ethuveraz proper..." The lesson proceeded apace, Cala pausing hopefully at intervals to encourage any sort of question or engagement of the sort that his young pupil seemed to find so difficult. Maia only listened, at first. Cala did not know if it was because he had nothing to ask, or because he was afraid of offending Cala by speaking.

 _Perhaps he might grow less timid in one of the areas which specifically commands his interest, otherwise these lessons will be more of a chore than thou hadst ever thought,_ he mused as Maia directed his attention to a paragraph on the earliest origins of the House of Blood. He blinked at the thought, mentally boxing his own ears. _Such an attitude will do no one any good. Take him as he is and work with him as thou art meant to; the rest will follow naturally enough._

Finally, as Cala began to lose hope and glanced at Maia a last time, imploring him to say _something_ , Maia asked, "The outer provinces, those that came under the Empire's control because it offered protection from barbarians, they did not already have lords. How were their representatives chosen?"

Without missing a beat, Cala launched into a description of the representatives selected to deal with the Conqueror and their subsequent establishment as a unified whole, a genuine interest in the subject mingled with a relief that he would not have to come across entirely as a droning bore this day.

~//~

Maia listened obediently, and as the end of the lesson neared, he found himself anticipating it with regret. His anxiety had abated somewhat - Cala had not judged him harshly on his answers nor his questions (though of course it was only a matter of time...) and if the material was perhaps not the most interesting, Cala was a far better teacher than Maia had ever had in recent years, and he at least was not threatening beatings and insults and stolen meals.

Cala placed a bookmark into the volume Maia had been studying, indicating the chapter to which he should read by the next history lesson with a smile. "If there is nothing else we will see you here at this time tomorrow to discuss Budarezh further," he said, beginning to gather up his books and notes.

Maia took the book and vowed silently to read the chapter thoroughly, to have remarks and questions ready for Cala at the next lesson. The day to come did not seem quite so daunting, with the lesson to look forward to. If all the others at court were to forget him and push him aside, he thought - hoped - that Cala would not.

~//~

Cala had already set out his things on the table when Maia entered the room, and was standing before the single window with its warped, bubbled glass panes blurred further by the morning’s rain.

"Good morning," Maia said, more confident now than he had been two weeks before. He had read the chapter on the traits of animals that Cala had assigned, and though he did not understand it all, he felt he knew enough to discuss it intelligently. Cala would not try to trick him into a foolish answer, or mock him if he made a mistake, he knew that now.

"Good morning, Maia. How does it find you?" Cala asked, polishing his glasses emphatically on the sleeve of his robe as he turned to sit down.

"Well enough, thank you," Maia replied. Manners were simple enough - a pattern Setheris had drilled into him until he could never forget or miss. In truth, he had gotten little sleep, kept awake by dreams of marsh birds dragging him back to desolate Edonomee, but that was not a thing to burden Cala with.

Cala’s ears dipped for only a moment. "We are pleased to hear it. We fear that the list of taxonomic classifications we had hoped to lecture from today was solely a reference document, but we must admit it was hardly interesting enough to press the issue. All the more reason to see about moving these lessons from this... room to the library proper, we would imagine."

"The library?" Maia's ears pricked up. "Would we not be disturbing the scholars?" And then he thought, he was supposed to be a student now, and Cala as dachenmaza certainly would be allowed to research anywhere he wished. "We mean - that would be agreeable." He could not seem to find the right words today. Setheris’s voice rang in his head: _Speak clearly, hobgoblin, or he will think thee uncivilized_.

"There are private study rooms for such things, and I very much doubt they would be denied to an archduke interested in thus furthering his education. Do you know if there is anyone more... immediate we might ask for the permission to relocate these lessons there in lieu of attempting an audience with your father?"

He certainly would not trouble the Emperor with something as trivial as this, he thought, and realized just before he said it that Cala hadn't meant it seriously. "There must be a head librarian, or archivist..." he began, thoughts souring as he realized how little he knew of the way the court offices were run. "Or the steward in charge of those rooms?"

"Oh, we know who to repair to for permission to use the library rooms. Our only concern was that we not be accused of some sort of nefarious purpose were we to abandon the room prepared for you in favor of another," Cala said.

"Oh. It ought not to be an issue then." At least, if nobody complained. "We believe this room was chosen for convenience. If you have something more suitable in mind, as our mentor you have that right."

"Wonderful. Talking of the library, have you managed to begin the _Natural History of the Ethuveraz_ yet? Obviously we need not discuss it in any depth until next week, we were merely curious as to whether you had formed any opinions yet."

He had not, he realized abruptly. He had read the compiler's foreword, but had been pulled away for various reasons, and Cala's other assignments had been more pressing. "We have not. We are sorry, we meant to start it-" _Excuses,_ that voice in his head said, stopping him short. The fear was instinctive, he had disobeyed... he watched Cala, and waited for a reaction.

"Maia, it's all right! As we recall we only asked you to read the foreword and the first two chapters by next week in any case. We swear we will not be offended by your having your own life outside our tutelage."

He calmed himself with effort - it would not do to look a fool. "We _have_ read the chapters in theology you assigned, and the history." He noted _something_ in Cala's face and... it could not be disapproval, his words had been honest. But Maia set that question aside.

"Good. Let us begin there before we divert the topic from today's lesson once again," Cala settled closer in his chair to quiz Maia on what he had learned from the chapter. Maia answered the questions readily, getting most of the answers correct. Cala expanded on those he did not know, as well as a few he did, and Maia managed two or three additional questions following on from those tracks. Now that he knew he could ask, he had begun to enjoy seeing the sudden brightness in Cala's face when he asked for a deeper explanation, or about a particular actor's motivations, or the consequences of a law. To have someone appreciate his presence - it was a feeling he had not known in a long time, and never from somebody outside his family.

The morning passed sufficiently quickly that Maia found himself surprised when the eleventh bell sounded halfway through Cala’s lengthy description of the first attempts to retake the barbarian-occupied lands south of the steppe.

"Damn. We suppose the continuation must wait for the next lesson if you're not to miss luncheon," Cala concluded, fishing a loose strand of hair from behind his glasses.

And that would be it for the day, Maia thought, disappointed. He wondered briefly how something that had seemed so intimidating when he first came to Court was something he enjoyed now, something that he craved despite the work that went into it.

"Of course," he said, putting away his book, mentally preparing himself for a lonely meal and an afternoon of alternately attending pointless events and being ignored entirely - and then before he could stop himself, "Unless you have the time-" and then he did stop, for it would be ridiculous - and selfish - for him to pull Cala away from his business for longer than their assigned time.

But Cala surprised him. "We have an hour at least, if you would truly care to hear the rest," he said, hope clear in his voice.

Maia brightened considerably - he had not expected Cala to agree. "Yes, we would. And we have been wondering, how did the forces change their tactics to challenge the barbarian scouts?" Here was proof, more than anything before, that Cala did truly like him, and this was not only a chore.

"A number of such tactics were effected, up to and including guerilla units similar to those employed by the Nazhmorhathveras, which was the final turning point for the reconquest of Ezho." Cala continued on from there until the bell finally sounded for noon. "Now, we fear we have an appointment with a colleague to keep in Cetho proper so we must urge you to go eat and enjoy the rest of your day," he told Maia, rising with as subtle a stretch of his stiff limbs as he could manage to gather up his books and notes.

"Yes. We- we thank you for indulging us," Maia said, folding his papers carefully into the book. "We hope we have not kept you from anything..."

"No, nothing that could not be delayed a moment in the service of an eager pupil. Only a meeting with a colleague, as I said. Well, a friend."

Maia nodded. "We will see you tomorrow, then." He gathered his things, already feeling oddly lonely, and left with the bored-looking servant who came to the door. He spent much of the rest of the day in reading, and then a page arrived with an invitation to dinner with Vedero. He went gladly, expecting to be enthralled in her tellings on science and mechanics, but he found that it was very different when it was not Cala who was speaking.

He found himself thinking, during those slow days, of Cala's occasional remarks about meeting friends, or studying a topic with a fellow student. Friends had not been something that Edonomee had provided, empty as it had been but for himself, Setheris, and the servants who cared little for either. People his age spent their time in social gatherings. The only ones of those he had been invited to had been with family members, and there were few of those he liked, and few who liked him when they deigned to notice him at all. While it had been pleasant to not have so much knowledge and questions demanding his attention and answer, he had missed these meetings.


	2. Chapter Two

The following day proved a similar success, as did the one following that from which Cala came away with the resolve to find every text on Barizheise religion the library had to offer. Following the next two lesson-free days Cala employed a pneumatic operator to send an honest, respectable message summoning Maia to the Untheleneise library instead of his usual classroom.

As the door swung open, revealing Maia accompanied by one of the few servants who trailed after him in some semblance of chaperone or guard, Cala felt his spirits raise, then sink once again.  _ Shouldst speak to him if thou think'st it would help aught, otherwise keep thy peace _ , Dazhis had told him, and while his words rang true as always Cala could not help but feel a renewal of the vague guilt that would haunt him either way.

He led the latter into a study room small to the point of being cramped but boasting a single large, bright window, much more comfortable chairs, and a stack of historical texts considered too precious to be let off the library premises for a moment. "Good afternoon, Maia. I hope your days off proved a pleasant reprieve from study," he said once they were both seated. He rarely found himself interested in or capable of small talk, but his genuine interest in the well-being of his pupil prompted him to ask in any case, always hoping for a true answer.

"It was tiring, in truth," Maia said, and Cala’s heart lifted to know he was trusted with this. "I was summoned to several meetings, for my political edification, it was said, but I was not permitted to supply my own observations."

"In such situations I tend to find myself cataloguing the physical abnormalities or the nervous habits of those around me," Cala said. "Not that I would urge you to neglect any aspect of your education, least of all the political, but I would also hasten to add that some of my most relevant learning has come from the close observation of those around me rather than merely hearing their words."

"It is a useful habit," Maia agreed. "When one lives with only a few others, one learns to recognize when to avoid them."

_ He was at best an indifferent student and at worst entirely incapable of comprehending simple concepts _ , Nelar's voice sounded in his head and Cala set his jaw to keep his ears from pinning hard against the side of his head. If this was truly what Maia's education had been to date then it was no wonder he looked terrified every time he ventured to ask the most relevant and innocuous question.

"If I may be frank, from the little I know of your cousin and erstwhile guardian I imagine you have more practice with such observation than most give you credit for," Cala said, deliberately resting his hands in his lap to keep from any agitated gesture.

Maia tensed. "He was... difficult to live with. But the Emperor assigned him to house me, and I suppose there are worse fates."

Cala took a deep breath, debating whether to continue, but the wish for absolution from the guilt of the past weeks was strong. And was it not, after all, his duty to make certain that his pupil was sufficiently at ease and cared for to learn in the first place? "I spoke with him, the day after we convened for the third time," he told Maia, hands tightening in his lap at the expression of shock and betrayal that crossed his face. "I had intended to give him the benefit of the doubt with regard to his guardianship and tutelage, but he spoke of you in terms I would not use on an ill-behaved dog and showed you less esteem even than that. Did your father  _ know _ of this?"

"...If he did, he did not care," Maia said finally, nearly too quietly to be heard. "I am the fourth son of the Emperor, and the heir has children of his own. My father did not wish to waste precious resources on a son of foreign bloodline."

Cala had always imagined heartbreak to be an overly poetic metaphor employed by those with little verbal imagination, but the sensation of shattering in his chest could not have been denied by a greater man than he. What was there that he could possibly say, or do, for a youth adjacent to the highest authority in the land but entirely spurned by that authority? How had he managed to maintain such genuine sweetness of temperament and faith in a higher power in the face of such? How could an emperor who showed his first three sons such favor have cast off his motherless fourth so cruelly? "You have borne much and weathered it better than most would have in your place," he finally said, eyes locked on Maia's across the table. This time Maia did not avoid Cala's gaze.

"I weathered it as best I was able. Truly, he had his reasons for acting as he did. A man pulled away from his wife and rank cannot be expected to take kindly to a child dropped on his doorstep."

"A  _ man _ \- a grown man with a man's reasoning and wisdom and capacity to see that a half-orphaned child should be treated with care and compassion, whether that child were the child of the humblest peasant or of the Emperor himself!" Cala resisted the urge to spring to his feet. He clenched his hands in his lap, ears pinned hard enough for the backs of his small, unextravagant hoops to tangle in his hair. "There is  _ no _ reason for what he did to you, Maia. The excuses hurled by a bitter, vicious sot with less regard for any other than I have ever seen are not reasons. Regardless of his opinion of your father or the legitimacy of his relegation, that he would vent this spleen on a defenseless child trusted to his care..." Cala broke off, drawing in several slow breaths before cleaning his lenses on his sleeve in a way that seemed to signal the realignment of his train of thought.

"You have no reason to love him, or to defend him to anyone who cares for your well-being," he said, quietly and with an air of conclusion, before noticing the alarm on Maia’s face. "Forgive me. I spoke out of turn as ill befits a servant to his liege."

Maia seemed yet more startled. "I was assigned here to listen to you, to learn..." he began, and Cala was reminded how little Maia’s status must have mattered at Edonomee.

"I am still your social inferior, and you would have the power to see me reprimanded for speaking so plainly. Sharply, even," Cala replied. "I have also kept from my assigned duty to instruct you long enough. It would be understandable - expected, even - for you to have me castigated for either one of these offenses."

"It might be proper, but it does not seem right. I would not take offense to thee. You.” Maia paused. “Perhaps we should return to the lessons, if you feel it your duty," he said, taking the offer to change the topic.

"And that is what differentiates you from those around you." Cala slid his glasses back on, carefully reaching up to disentangle one earring from the side of his queue. "And yes, it is my duty, but also my privilege and indeed my pleasure. From all I have seen in the past month, Nelar's incapacity to teach you effectively was nothing but another failing on his part. You are an intelligent and inquisitive pupil whom I am happy to instruct." In such an absence of affection from any other quarter, this frank confession could hardly be improper to any serious degree, he reasoned.

"I hope to live up to your expectations. And I am glad you do not find this a poor assignment."

"Never." Cala slid the first relevant text out from under the usual pile of other books that tended to accumulate on top of whatever he was looking for at any given moment before pausing briefly. "If you would prefer for us to speak in the informal second I see no reason not to do so."

"I... I would like that," Maia said, clearly relieved that the topic had moved away from his cousin.

Cala proceeded with the lesson he had planned over the past few days with Dazhis's occasional input, doing his best to keep the tone neutral and friendly following the outburst.  _ Something must be done _ , he thought ruefully, gazing at Maia's rapt face as he silently read over a page of genealogy Cala had presented him, but what it was that might be done in the face of the Imperial family's contempt and the court's apathy entirely eluded him.

~//~

The next week of lessons felt oddly subdued after that, though to all appearances nothing had changed besides perhaps Maia gaining a little more confidence in asking questions and sharing his observations. The material was the same, Cala's manner as calm and kind and bright as always. But now Maia felt the limitations of it. This was only one small part of his day. Cala had been assigned only to teach him, not to be his friend or guide. He wanted something more than that, wanted to have Cala speak to him as he did his fellows, not his student. And the lessons would end, eventually. That was a thought more chilling than it had a right to be.

It was not the only thought that occupied his mind. The intensity in Cala's voice, in his eyes, when he had cursed Setheris - Maia had truly not expected such. Pity, maybe, a quiet sorrow brushed aside for more immediate concerns, but this was something different, and something wonderful. He truly did not know what to think of it, and wondered vaguely if he should be frightened by this passion and fury from somebody who had before seemed only calm, or bright with enthusiasm, watching Maia with that approving light in his face at some remark or question. But there had been in Cala’s face something that he needed to see: a promise that the ground he walked was not as unsteady as it felt. If Cala protested Setheris's treatment of him to the Emperor, or to his close advisors, his cousin would no doubt learn of it.

Maia shook that thought off as best he could, turned his mind to something else. Cala said he was an intelligent student. He had never heard such praise since his mother died, and his first instinct was to meet it with suspicion. But that would be unjust. Cala was entirely to be trusted, he knew that for certain now, and it would be cruel to doubt him. It was strange for Maia to think that he was  _ skilled _ at anything besides watching for danger and keeping out of the way.

Setheris had not approached him in several weeks, and he had nearly begun to hope his cousin had finally decided to forget about him, until Maia turned a corner leaving a lesson and found him lurking there like some ghoul cursed to haunt a particular home for eternity. Maia was not fool enough to think that the court around him would be any more protection than the wastes of Edonomee.

"Maia." The two syllables were mild, though whether in a way that presaged a neutral exchange or a violent, bitter outburst Maia was hard-pressed to immediately tell. "Thou art exceptionally difficult to find of late. I was informed that thy lessons took place in an entirely different part of the court than this."

_ He does not have power over thee anymore, _ Maia told himself, but could not quite believe it as truth. "Hast thou business with me?" he said, looking down and speaking quietly in an instinctive effort to appear beneath notice.

"Thy lack of correspondence following our previous meeting," Setheris said, his voice taking on the quality Maia had come to think of as the calm before the storm, "is inexcusable in light of the lack of engagement with the court thy father has seen fit to engage thee in. In our time here I have seen thee at perhaps two court functions I have seen fit to attend and heard little enough report of thee about the court, leading me to wonder what exactly it is thou dost with thine apparently copious spare time while ignoring my own attempts at communication."

"Most of my time has been spent in study. And I have seen nothing at those functions worth writing thee about." Best to start with the truth, though even that sometimes put Setheris into a dangerous rage. Maia had read the first few letters Setheris had sent, but they did nothing but cast a sour darkness over the remainder of the day. He had thrown one into the fire in a fit of sudden outrage, and all since then had received the same treatment. Perhaps he should have read them after all, and kept track of his cousin's movements…

"As thy memory has ever been less use than a broken sieve, allow me to remind thee of my words to thee from our journey here," Setheris said, stepping close enough to drive Maia a step back. "With my having raised thee for eight years, at no inconsiderable personal inconvenience and struggle, I would hope that thy gratitude for meals, shelter and instruction would be sufficient impetus for thee to at the least acknowledge my presence as a member of the court instead of becoming immediately full of thine own self-import."

Maia backed away a few steps, feeling as cornered as ever he had at Edonomee, and then a futile helpless anger came over him, that he should be where he had long wished to be and yet his cousin still presumed to own him. But he could not help but acknowledge the truth in Setheris's words - he  _ had _ sheltered and fed and taught Maia, and to no benefit to himself. "Thou hast been a member of this court far longer and I. Thy better knowledge and experience would certainly offer better opportunity. My father loves me not, as thou knowest."

"And so in lieu of trying to gain his ear at all thou hast merely ignored my letters?" The anger was building in Setheris's voice, the timbre jerking Maia forcibly back toward drunken evenings of self-pity when Setheris would excise his anger at the situation on Maia's head. "Much as I know thou hast ever run from thy problems like the mindless little grey hare thou art I would have expected  _ one _ of us to have swayed thee by now."

Maia stepped back further, found himself pinned against a wall, and in his sudden fear lost any rhetorical advantage he had held. "I... of course, thou art correct, I will try, the next time, to find something of use to thee..." he babbled, hating himself for it, hating himself for ever thinking his situation had changed at all.

The blow was sudden and sharp enough to knock Maia's head back against the wall, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes but not hard enough - or near enough his eye - to leave a distinguishable mark. "For all thy father and brothers care for thee I am thy sole potential ally in Untheleneise Court. Thou wouldst do well to remember it," Setheris hissed before turning on his heel to stride off down the corridor from whence he had come.

Maia opened his eyes in time to see someone else come around the corner.

"Maia? Was that Osmer Nelar?" Cala demanded, dropping his books with a thump and hastily kneeling next to Maia.

Between Setheris's threats and Cala's sudden closeness, it took him a few moments to be able to respond. "Yes," he said, helplessly, and then more bitterly, "He wished to know why I had not used my position to further his political status." He was struck again by how strange and unfamiliar it was that someone would care what Setheris said to him, did to him, that someone would protest and condemn it with the honest outrage he had seen in Cala several days ago.

"Art thou hurt? Maia,  _ someone _ must be told about this!" Cala rocked closer on his knees, gaze fixed on Maia's. "If he continues to hurt thee and intimidate thee then surely thy father would care about that regardless of his opinion of thee in any other respect!"

The back of his head was aching now, but surely that did not count. "Not badly, it is of no matter..." and then, "My father has said little to me since my arrival, nor demanded my presence. He has the Empire to manage." Varenechibel would not care. Maia had little purpose in the Imperial household, and little power for Setheris to extort. He looked at Cala, again saw that intensity that somehow did not frighten him, and he could believe for a moment that this man held all the powers of mazei in tales to destroy enemies and bend the world to his will.

"Maia, thy father is a deeply proud man. Leaving aside his own regard for thee, think'st truly he would countenance the lack of respect shown by a man who would intimidate and strike his son?" A pained look crossed Cala's face. "Perhaps it was different in Edonomee when thou wert out of his sight and influence, but now thou'rt returned to court surely he could not ignore such a thing. I would accompany thee to bring such a case before him, only please, let me do  _ something _ for thee!"

It would be useless, could only damage both their standings in the eyes of the court, but Cala was so determined, so certain... "If thou truly believ’st he would listen- he thinks me pathetic enough already." The sense of dread he felt, of having to see his father the Emperor and be reminded yet again of how little he mattered, made him want to take back the words. He might feel safe with Cala so near, but it could not always be so, and if the Emperor ignored them, and Setheris inevitably learned of it... he did not want to think of it. "Truly, my cousin forgets his threats as often as he remembers..."

"I believe if I were to corroborate thy story he would at the least be forced to take notice. Clearly he has no love for Nelar as it is - think'st thou he would truly take his word over that of his own son? Particularly if the son's words were confirmed by a witness?"

"He might, or he might dismiss it as some story I have invented to seek his limited attention." Maia longed to trust in Cala’s reasoning, but Cala did not know the cruelties of the court, of the imperial family. And then Setheris would have nothing keeping him from hounding Maia for the rest of his life. That was a thought so terrible and bleak that he wrenched himself from it at once, and tried to focus on the present moment, on Cala sitting beside him with protectiveness and indignation clear in every word and motion, watching him with an affection Maia had never before seen in anyone.

"Has he any cause to believe such a thing? Particularly in the light of Nelar's previous machinations which saw him relegated in the first place?"

"He never told me the exact reasons for his relegation. All I know is that it fell short enough of treason for him to escape with his life." Not that he would have trusted any story Setheris told him.

"Perhaps we might incorporate the finding of that reason into thy history lessons," Cala said dryly. He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help Maia up. "I will stand beside thee, I will tell him everything thou hast suffered at this creature's hands, I will request the audience myself if it would..."

And then Cala stopped, and Maia saw where he was looking. He pulled his arm back, suddenly cold and tense again. "It is nothing-" he said automatically, and cursed himself for it, because if he had stayed quiet then maybe Cala would not have noticed.

Despite (or perhaps because of) the reaction, Cala chose not to push for an explanation. "Let me help thee," he said softly, holding Maia's gaze even as he stooped once again to begin gathering up his books. Relieved, Maia reached down to help him, hoping that maybe this would work as Cala imagined after all.


	3. Chapter Three

"How dost thou, love?" Cala asked once the door to Dazhis's quarters was safely closed, pulling the tie from his queue with the gesture Dazhis would have long since come to associate with nervous exasperation. He nonetheless leaned forward to take Dazhis in his arms, kissing him on the forehead as affectionately as husband ever kissed wife. Between Cala's own studies and his lessons with the young Archduke, he had seen little of his lover in recent days.

"I would ask thee the same - what's happened?"

"Merciful goddesses, where to begin?" Cala slumped onto Dazhis's bed, hands braced on his knees. "Something... bad happened today. Something I feel I must address but have no idea how to do so or even where to begin."

Dazhis pulled himself onto the bed beside Cala, leaned in close and rubbed his tense shoulders. "Shouldst tell me, if thou wishest. Is it the Archduke?"

"Yes. Well, no, not him exactly." Cala leaned eagerly into Dazhis's touch, removing his spectacles to place them on the bedside table. Slowly and thoroughly he began to explain the situation with Setheris Nelar, beginning with Maia's plea to not approach him about what he had been taught in the Thu-Evresar years and ending with the near-encounter that afternoon. "Something must be done," he finished furiously, "but what might I do? I am a lowborn tutor against a gods-damned  _ lawyer _ , who despite any disfavor with the Emperor in previous years has been recalled to court, presumably for some sort of a second chance. Maia deserves better than this and I have so little recourse to give it to him, but I cannot sit by and do nothing."

"Thou wishest to see him safe from all harm.,” Dazhis summarized. “A noble desire - thy heart always reaches out to others. But thou must be cautious. A misstep may ruin what standing thou holdst with the Imperial family."

"Think'st thou I do not know that?" Cala snapped, then almost immediately regretted it. "Forgive me. Believe me, I have considered this from all angles, including my personal life coming under scrutiny and the ensuing discovery barring either of us from the presence of any fair young man for the rest of our days, let alone an Imperial scion." He leaned into Dazhis's arms, bony shoulder blades sharp against Dazhis's chest even through their clothing. "But ignored and reviled as he is by his family and the court alike, who else has he to turn to?"

"Move a little, love, or thou'lt slice me up," Dazhis said, nudging Cala into a more comfortable position. "It is not a simple thing. But thou canst not hope to change the heart of the Emperor or the Court all alone. Teach him, be a friend if thou canst find a way, but interference may bring only more harm."

"Ultimately it is to him to bring this to light, of course." Cala obligingly turned, resting his head against Dazhis's chest. "I have encouraged him to bring the situation before His Serenity, offering myself as a witness to Nelar's words and deeds, but even then my word surely only holds so much weight. If only I had  _ seen _ him strike the boy..."

"It is not thy duty to watch him every moment," Dazhis reasoned, running his hands down Cala's back.

"Thou'rt right, of course." Cala ran his fingers through his hair, loosing the last of the single long plait over his shoulders. "I accompanied him back to his quarters for fear that decrepit vulture might follow him, but left him to his own devices following that. At the least he has syllogistic constructions to occupy his mind until we meet next." He smiled grimly. "The fact that he has persevered academically in the face of this appalling treatment is a testament to his intellect, I imagine."

"He is a worthy student, from all thou hast told me." Dazhis brushed the tangles from Cala's hair as he spoke. "It is a credit to thy ability that thou hast kept his attention through diverse subjects."

"Thou'rt far too kind." Cala arched his back into Dazhis's touch, enjoying himself though he knew Dazhis could tell his mind was elsewhere. "In truth, though, if thou wert to stage a confrontation between an aggressor and his victim where someone more prominent and believable might see it..."

"Thou'rt more devious than I give thee credit for," Dazhis said, pulling Cala in close to kiss him, moving his hands in the ways that always got the best reaction.

Cala gasped softly, tangling his fingers in the base of Dazhis's ever more orderly plait. "Dost enjoy the thought of my deviousness, love?"

Dazhis kissed him again. "It is good to be reminded that thou art not always such an unimpeachable model student."

~//~

"What are thy plans following this?" Cala asked Maia a few days later, following an unusually long-winded lecture on the taxonomic classifications of plants, a topic that did not much interest either of them.

"Arbelan Drazharan has invited me to a luncheon, and later in the day there is a meeting with a visiting prince. Besides those, I had thought to study, and... and meditate." Though he knew Cala would not mock him for his interest in his mother's religion, he still hesitated in saying so. And partly to cover that up, and partly because he was concerned, he asked, "Cala, art well?"

"I only fear for what may befall thee when thou leavest this room following yesterday. Particularly in light of thine audience with thy father tomorrow," he said, busying himself with the papers though still meeting Maia's gaze earnestly. "Wouldst... wouldst allow me to accompany thee to thy quarters once again?"

"Thinkst he has heard?" The thought chilled him, made him feel small and helpless again. But Cala was here, and he would never let that happen in his sight... "Canst join me, the luncheon is not for some time..." The offer of company was unexpected, but an invitation to share something of Cala's life outside their small classroom was too much to pass up.

"Well. If thou hast other obligations before thou retirest to thy quarters I will certainly not impose my presence upon thee. Least of all if thou'rt to meet with thy relatives," Cala replied. "Only... it has been some time since I have paid my devotions at any god's shrine. Dost meditate at the Mich'othasmeire, or elsewhere?"

Maia had never thought to go to the Mich'othasmeire, trained as he was to see anything he was not expressly allowed to do as forbidden, or at least a risk. "I have not visited there. Wouldst thou show me?"

Cala's ears and eyebrows flicked up in unison. "Truly? I would gladly show thee the way when thou hast a free moment. What time think'st thou thou'lt be done with the audience thou didst mention?"

Maia thought. Arbelan did not talk excessively, nor uselessly, and his meetings with her did not run overlong. His brothers and their companions, on the other hand, could make a grand debate of anything. But he gave Cala a time he felt certain even they would be finished by. The thought of seeing the chambers of the gods raised his spirits - surely he could endure one such meeting, with that awaiting him.

Cala nodded, noting down the time before seeing Maia to the door of the study room. "If he approaches thee... try to lead him to a populated place. Make sure someone is there to  _ see _ how he acts to thee," he said, gaze intense through the thick glass of his spectacles.

"I would hope he does not attempt it at all," Maia said darkly, again without thinking, and cringed. "Forgive me - it is good advice. Even he might reconsider if faced with another's judgement." Or, he might not, if it was only a servant or person of little influence.

"The more witnesses thou might'st gather for thy case..." Cala shook his head quickly. "I hope he does not approach thee either, but in the event it does happen promise me thou'lt attempt to gain  _ someone's _ attention. Thou'rt in no way deserving of such treatment and whoever else might see it at that bastard's hands would surely agree."

"That would only anger him further..." It felt wrong to challenge Cala's earnest hopes, but eight years of instincts spoke louder. "He is shrewd, when he needs to be, and would be sure he is not watched. Or would make his words seem innocuous and unimportant to others." He did not want to see Cala's sorrow in the face of that - and yet, it was something wonderful to know  _ someone _ was concerned for him.

"Well. Thou'rt better acquainted with the man than I would ever be, having endured eight years of his company." Cala stepped forward to give Maia's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Send word when thou'rt done with these engagements and I will gladly show thee all thou wouldst see of our grandest chapel."

Maia left, thinking of the evening to come, grateful that Cala did not press the issue, and the memory of that touch lingered in his head all through the appointments of the day.

~//~

It was a plan - an incomplete, foolish plan that he cringed with guilt to think of the ramifications of, but the more he had spoken on it with Dazhis the more he had felt it was the only immediate way forward. So many aspects could go wrong, he reflected as he hovered in the antechamber of the Untheleneise'meire, but if it were to go  _ right _ ...  _ Besides _ , Cala reflected sardonically to himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot under the minor concealment glamour (enough to make the attention of others slide past him as little out of the ordinary without dabbling into true invisibility with all the fallibility that entailed),  _ what would another violent outburst be to one who has endured so many of them from this whoreson already? _

The antechamber was dark this time of night, lit mostly by candles rather than lamps. Maia, ignorant of Cala’s presence, stood and waited, his anxious glances towards the door adding to Cala’s guilt by the moment.

Through the halls between the various chapels an occasional acolyte stepped with a near-silent whisper of robes, bearing incense or offerings left by worshipers throughout the day, seeming to take no more notice of Maia than any other patron of the chapel, unaccompanied as he had come. From somewhere beyond the chapel a bell tolled the hour - drawing close to midnight - and Cala resisted the urge to dig his nails into his hands. Had the conversation he had staged with Dazhis been too obvious, or not obvious enough to rouse any suspicion? Was Nelar lying in a stupor of alcohol somewhere, beyond caring about his cousin's capacity to ruin him?  _ I should never have done this _ , he reflected to himself before almost starting out of his camouflage at the opening of the chapel door.

It was the sour face he had both hoped and feared to see, eyes dark with malice of a sort Cala shuddered to think on. Maia turned, face brightening. "Cala, I-" He stopped short, ears going flat, and stumbled back a step before seeming to freeze in terror. "Cousin."

"Cousin." It amazed Cala how much contempt Nelar could condense into so few syllables. "To find thee here, in this antiquated, fuzzy-headed bastion of superstition should hardly surprise me, and yet - "

"A good evening to you, my lords." The voice came from one of the passing acolytes, a relatively young man carrying an armful of what must have been texts for illumination. "Is there anything we might help either of you with?" he asked mildly, apparently oblivious to the incipient earful Setheris seemed to be preparing for him.

Cala winced at the insults to the Empress Chenelo’s religion, insults Maia must have borne for years. To speak them  _ here _ in the gods' own halls... Maia looked to the acolyte, eyes wide with fear and shock, saying nothing.

"Do you  _ know _ to whom you speak, boy?" Nelar demanded. "This is the son of the Emperor recently recalled from his relegation in Thu-Evresar, apparently ventured out on his own to pay his evening... devotions." The last word was spoken with the tone ordinarily used for much less savory activities. He seemed about to say more but was interrupted almost immediately by the acolyte throwing himself to the ground. "Your Grace, we were entirely unaware it was you, please forgive our ignorant behavior, we pray that if there is anything you require of us or of any other priest here we might grant it for your spiritual needs," he babbled.

"Please, stand," Maia told the frightened acolyte. The priest rose reluctantly to his feet, avoiding both Maia's eyes and those of Nelar which were focused on him with a steely distaste.

"We hope he has not disrupted whatever it is you do here with his presence and will make sure he is kept in better order in the future," Nelar said, taking Maia's shoulder and leading him from the antechamber back into the unpopulated outside courtyard. Cala trailed behind, cursing the priest, Setheris Nelar, and most of all, himself. He heard Maia say with forced levity, "What brings thee here this evening, Cousin? I am to meet my tutor; perhaps I ought to stay..."

The confrontation with the priest seemed to have transmuted Nelar’s initial fury into something much more cold and directed. "I do not know what game thou play'st here, nor what tales thou mean'st to bear to thy father, but know that I  _ will _ not be brought down once more by the likes of thee," he hissed, teeth bared like a snarling animal. "I have respectability and prestige within my reach once more with or without thy cooperation, and whatever thou might'st bring against me I will use everything in my power to make thee wish for the tender mercies of Edonomee. Dost understand me?"

Maia looked down, ears still flat. "Of course," he said. "I will tell no tales."

"See that thou dost not." Nelar had begun to turn on his heel as Cala desperately cast off the obfuscation like a semi-substantial cloak, feigning to hurry out of the chapel entrance behind him. "Maia, forgive me, I - is everything all right?" he asked, the catch in his voice real as he seethed at himself. Damn the priest for tempering Nelar's ire, and damn himself for thinking this ever would have worked. "Good eve, Osmer Nelar," he added to the glowering bastard, who nodded frostily before stalking away whence he had come.

Cala watched Nelar's retreating back until he disappeared through the door into some court outbuilding, valiantly attempting not to let his ears droop in frustrated despondency. "Maia, did he hurt thee again?" he asked, articulating each syllable carefully in an attempt to seem both surprised and horrified rather than simply horrified.  _ This is Dazhis's doing. He encouraged and abetted thee in this foolishness _ , his mind whispered, and Cala resisted the urge to briskly shake his head. Laying the blame for what  _ he _ had done at another's feet could only make things worse. He vowed to stay close to Maia for the rest of the evening.   _ This way, at the least, I  _ can _ protect him from harm, _ he reflected ruefully.

~//~

Setheris was gone, Cala was here. Most of the tension dropped away from Maia at that knowledge, but his cousin's words lingered, and the galling knowledge that he could still be led like a dog by the man who was no longer his guardian.

"He didn't," he reassured Cala, knowing he would be worried. "But he knows that we plan to speak to my father."

"What? How?" Cala demanded. "If he tries anything between now and then I swear I will kill him and go to Ulis gladly."

"I do not know," Maia said, a little taken aback by Cala's sudden vehemence, despite the protective anger he had seen in recent days. "He may have heard it from a secretary, or a servant..."

"Then at the least allow me to accompany thee to thy chambers once again."

"Gladly. But could we not stay here for a time? Or if thou thinkst it unsafe..." Cala, usually calm, seemed so tense and uneasy. Was this just because of Setheris's threats? Much as Maia liked being cared for, yearned for that affection, he did not like the thought that Setheris was bringing harm to another.

Cala blinked. "Well... if thou wouldst still care to meditate here following that then I would gladly join thee. He seems to be gone, at least for the time being." A rueful smile crossed his face. "I have remarked on thy resilience before, but truly I have only seen a small part of it thus far, it seems."

"I- I would." He could only think it would be worse to leave now, before he could calm his mind in the space designed for such devotions. He had not gone through the ritual with another in a very long time, and the idea of it set his heart aching. But then Cala's praise set his mind to another thought, that his survival was mainly in avoiding Setheris when he could, and playing meek when he could not, and a question stuck. "He gives the gods no notice nor respect, he would not have been here by chance..."

"Did he come here solely to confront thee, then?"

"I can only suppose so."

"Well. I suppose that minimizes the odds of thee meeting him here by chance in the future, then," Cala said with a crooked smile. "He seems to have gone out of his way to track thee down in the past, from all thou'st said, so perhaps he went through those who had seen thee last to track thee here?"

Maia had not spoken of this at either of the meetings. His family cared nothing for his daily schedule, save that he stay out of their way when not required, and besides that he had not been asked. He had told Arbelan of his success in his studies, but that had been all. "I cannot think who else would know." Perhaps Cala had told a friend, or a servant, or someone else? 

"I imagine it will come to light soon enough following the audience," he said. "Truly, wouldst prefer to meditate or simply retire? I am happy to join thee in the former, though I confess I have little idea what to do for the duration."

He had never taught anybody in the Barazheise style of meditation, but the thought of sharing it pleased him. "I can show thee, if thou wishest, though I am certain I am not as skilled at teaching as thee."

Cala's face genuinely lit up for the first time in days. "I would be happy for thee to be my instructor. Lead the way."

**~//~**

Cala left Maia at the end of the evening and fled to Dazhis’s chambers, cursing himself all the while for his foolishness.

“What have I done _ , _ Dazhis?"

"What is it, love? Did it work?" Dazhis asked, rising from his chair as Cala entered the room.

"It  _ might _ have worked, despite everything, if..." Cala drew in a deep breath. "But it did not, and Maia is even more terrified of that bastard than before. I should have just accompanied him tomorrow and had done with it, such a plan was complete foolishness, there were far too many moving parts and I was far too enamoured of my own cleverness..." He had nearly rejected the idea altogether, after bringing it up, but Dazhis had thought it worthwhile, and encouraged him to go through with it.

Dazhis frowned. "It was a perfectly worthy plan. What went wrong?"

Cala briefly explained the situation, beginning with his arrival at the Untheleneise'meire and ending with the meditation session which Maia had guided him through. "At the very least the practice of the ritual seemed to calm him and take his mind to a better place," he concluded, tips of his ears still near to touching his shoulders.

"Misfortune, nothing more. And now thou hast proof that Nelar is indeed going to unreasonable measures to bring harm to the Archduke."

"I have only my word against his. He was intelligent enough to not threaten Maia with any sort of harm directly in front of the man. In fact, he rather gave the appearance of attempting to reclaim a poor halfwit who had wandered off." The disgust was palpable in Cala's voice.

"Damn. Well, together we should be far sharper than he. Is there naught thou canst do before the audience tomorrow?"

"I can think of little, I fear. I don't even know if I'll be allowed into the audience save if my witness is needed in some capacity." Cala lowered himself onto the bed, leaning into Dazhis's shoulder. "There's little enough that can be done now, I suppose. Thank thee for thy counsel, in any case.”  _ Even if it was thee who persuaded me to this foolishness _ , a contrary part of his mind muttered, and he pushed it aside.

Dazhis put an arm around Cala. "Perhaps... if Nelar can be brought to temper before this audience, he may lose some of that veneer of respectability, and reveal what thou wishest seen."

"No. I have done with trying the temper of one as volatile as he." Cala rested his head in his hands. "Besides, if he is truly so volatile as that perhaps it is only a matter of time. No, I will say my piece, I will allow His Serenity to make his decision, and if more drastic measures are required... well, I am sure such measures exist."

"Do not tell me thou wilt abandon this endeavour?" Dazhis sounded disappointed, somehow. "It was well-conceived, and may still work. Better, in fact, that it be somewhere public, and not an empty temple late at night."

"It was  _ not _ well conceived! I am ashamed to have ever considered it. He might have been hurt, I might have been seen and implicated not only myself but also thee." Cala turned to Dazhis, face drawn, eyes near feverish. "If this audience goes poorly I  _ will _ find a way to bring Nelar what he so deserves, but until then I must plan, and see that Maia comes to no more harm. Least of all by my own hand."

Dazhis slid a hand behind Cala's neck and toyed at his hair. "Tell me of thy plans."

Cala closed his eyes, leaning back into Dazhis's touch, letting him ease away some of the guilt that still clung to him like ink. "At this point I can hardly put the thoughts together. To think of what might have happened, with or without my presence... truly I have never been the sort of man for intricate schemes.” He sighed. “Who knows. Perhaps His Serenity will resolve this and I might resume the disinterested position I ought to occupy. "

"As if thou couldst ever be disinterested,” Dazhis teased. “It will do thee no good to dwell on that. If thou truly dost not wish to try again to tip the scales in thy favor, perhaps thou canst pry thy mind from the boy for a moment." And, with a note of pleading, "Hast been away or distracted so often, Cala."

"Thou'rt right. I ought to think on something else. Ideally, he whom I love." Cala drew close against Dazhis's chest, pressing his forehead to Dazhis's. "Forgive the absence of my thoughts. I would never have thought that this assignment would ever have been quite so... complicated."

Dazhis held him close, kissed him. "Thine assignment was to be his teacher, not his guardian. Leave such worries for the Emperor, my love. I can keep thee busy tonight."


	4. Chapter Four

The summons had directed him to the Tortoise Room where he was informed his father tended to conduct the majority of his private audiences and business matters. He had not managed to humiliate himself by missing the door, but as it swung open by the hand of one of the four grim-faced nohecharei Maia had yet to even learn the names of Maia felt humiliation incipient nonetheless. Even in the warm, inviting glow of the room, Varenechibel IV Zhas seemed a pillar of ice shaped by a master's hand into a living being, every line of his face and clothing seeming to pierce the air like a chill breeze as he turned silently to face his son.

"The archduke Maia Drazhar," the guard announced.

His first thought, irrelevantly, was that his father looked exactly as he had eight years ago at Chenelo's funeral, tall, white, impassive.  _ The damned whelp looks just like his mother, _ he heard in his head, and tried not to flinch outwardly.  _ Ears up, _ he reminded himself. From Setheris's lessons, he knew at least the proper motions of greeting the Emperor, and he followed them as if this man was not supposed to be family.

"Your Serenity," he said, and when he finally dared to look up could read nothing in this man's eyes.

The barest inclination of the Emperor's chin showed that the motion had been accepted, if not in any way valued or appreciated. "What petition is it that you bring before us?" he asked, pale eyes so like the ones Maia had seen in Edonomee's single blurry mirror meeting his.

For a moment Maia could not think, and then he remembered Cala's endless reassurances, and managed to find breath to speak. "We wish to accuse Setheris Nelar of mistreatment and cruelty towards our person, both at Edonomee and here at court following our arrival." The words hung in the cold silence, and Maia knew this to be a ruinous plan. How had he ever allowed Cala to convince him to do this? But it was started, and it must be ended. He breathed as steadily as he could and waiting for his father's - for the Emperor's reply.

Varenechibel's gaze was level, the expression as neutral as it had been from the moment Maia had stepped through the door. "Make your case," he said, eyes never once leaving Maia's.

He was shaking, he noted distantly, and hoped the Emperor could not see. "He - he beat us often, not only for disobedience but for his own frustrations, insulted us, refused us food for no reason but his own temper. He was drunk, very often, and..." He had not told Cala this, had not wished to see that helpless grief in kind blue eyes, but now he fumbled at his sleeve and stepped forward with sudden reckless confidence. If this did not make his case quite clear, then all was lost. He told that particular story in as few words as he could, and once again waited for judgement.

Varenechibel took in the story, gesturing minimally for Maia to continue where he faltered, once with a harsh glare that nearly stopped the flow of Maia's words entirely before he managed to find the thread once more. "We advise you to exercise your prerogative as an archduke of the realm with the social dominance this entails," he said once the last stammered phrase had left Maia's lips. "Any punishments you may have suffered at his hands in your minority are in the past, as is any power he may have commanded over you in your relegation together, and we would direct you to take up any further vendettas you may harbor with the objects of these vendettas rather than running to your remaining parent bearing tales like a scolded child."

It might have hurt more had he held any respect for this man as a father rather than a monarch, and if he had not heard similar from Setheris every day for so many years. As it was the words at first struck fear into him, but then the accusations - and their insinuation - kindled anger. If he did not convince the Emperor now, then surely Setheris would hear of it, and Maia would never be rid of him for the rest of his life. He would not live in fear, not now that he was grown and at court and supposed to be an Emperor's son free from such influence. "He- he has continued his behavior," Maia said, and something in him protested it as reckless, idiotic, but he did not listen. "Surely this undermines the authority of the Imperial family..." and then the rational part of his mind caught up with him, and he froze.

"He continues because you allow him to." In all this time Varenechibel had not seemed to have moved a single muscle save for those of his neck and around those pitiless grey eyes. "Do you think that we have not observed Setheris Nelar's movements since his return to court? We know of his petty schemes to grasp for power playing off any he feels he might subjugate to his will, and we do not feel threatened by any threat he might bring to bear. You are a scion of the realm with all the power such a title entails - if you feel yourself unable to deal with a single trivial enemy, whatever your history, then we would advise you to school yourself quickly in the ways of dealing with such enemies and trouble us no more with personal quarrels."

That was as firm a dismissal as ever he had heard. 'Y-yes. Of course, we will do so. We thank you for granting this audience," Maia said, still too frozen to feel anything but a dull trepidation, and let himself be led away.

Outside the great doors, he could breathe again, and the Emperor's words yet again echoed in his mind.  _ He continues because you allow him to _ . It was false, so unjustly false, and yet... had he ever done anything but cringe away from Setheris, try to hide, maybe play a few pointed words when he dared? How had he thought this audience would do any good?

~//~

Cala was standing at the window of their usual study room as Maia pushed open the door. "What's toward, then?" Cala asked, taking a step forward.

Maia looked up, saw whatever faint hope Cala had worn fade away, and felt himself a failure. "He rejected the claim. A scion of the imperial house ought to handle such things on his own, and furthermore Setheris Nelar only does harm because I allow him to." His voice was flat, bitter. For a moment he was furious with Cala, for setting him up for this humiliation, but Cala had only meant well and it would do neither of them any good for him to rage against this man who had done so much for him, who cared about him when no one else did, who fretted and planned though it was hardly his duty.

"Setheris Nelar," Cala said, ears pinned and jaw set as he took another step forward, "does harm because he is a spiteful, impotent malcontent who would manipulate and bully those he perceives to be below him in the absence of any actual power." He drew close to Maia, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder once more. "Whatever thou hast 'allowed' him to do is in the absence of any other recourse, least of all any from thine own father. If thou canst not draw upon His Serenity" (he pronounced the word with a contempt Maia had never heard in his voice before) "for aid against this man then now must be the time to find another way."

Cala was cold and terrifying and utterly beautiful, and Maia could only watch for several moments before he finally realized the implications of what Cala was saying. "I would gladly see him ruined, but... I do not want him to come to  _ harm _ ..." He surprised himself by saying it, but even as he did he realized it was true - the idea of Setheris dead or in pain held no appeal at all, beyond that of having him  _ away _ . "And I would not have thee risk thyself in this..." But Setheris would surely hear of the audience soon, or at least know he faced no official censure, and for all the Emperor had dismissed his power-seeking, that fact would only embolden him in making Maia's life a misery…

"I would risk myself in any capacity thou wouldst require. The fact thou wishest no harm upon him only does thee the more credit." Cala took a deep breath. "However, before I offer my aid I feel there is something thou shouldst know."

Something in Cala's voice chilled Maia further. A sense of foreboding filled his chest, and he took a step back. "What is it?"

"Last night, in the Untheleneise'meire..." Cala tugged at the end of his plait, tears coming to his eyes. "Nelar meeting thee there was not a coincidence. Following how brazenly he attacked thee within the Court itself the other day, I had hoped to... to  _ engineer _ another such confrontation, to goad him into striking thee somewhere where I might have been a true eyewitness to such a crime. I had  _ hoped _ he would attack thee, Maia. For the ultimate good." He fell to his knees before Maia, the guilt and hurt in his voice all too obvious. "I am no worthy ally of thine, and I am unworthy to be thine instructor."

Maia stumbled back, horrified, and somehow to have Cala kneeling to him only made it worse. "You told him, you brought him there..." Something stabbed painfully near his heart; he fought for breath, for words. "I was  _ alone _ , if you had been delayed, or the priest had not..." He had trusted Cala to keep him safe from Setheris, and Cala had thought to enrage the man further.

"We know this. We have rearranged the situation in our head countless times since, through seemingly every possible permutation of events. If only we had not been so enamored of our own  _ cleverness _ and engaged the man on a different level than his own courtly deviousness, then... then you would still have one trustworthy ally in this nest of vipers."

Maia sat in one of the chairs, mind reeling and heart beating fast. "Then... then I am fortunate that events followed as they did," he said, and laughed helplessly, short and painful, at the very strangeness of it. Cala was still kneeling on the ground and never mind their relative ranks, it was  _ wrong _ and it  _ hurt _ . Cala had betrayed him and made sure Setheris knew where to find him and had  _ wished _ for the sort of thing that had made life at Edonomee the dreary horror it was. And the Emperor would not have listened in any case, Maia was certain now. But still...

"Stand, please," he said shakily. "I had never thought thou wouldst... I thought thou wanted him  _ away _ ..." Though he could see why Cala had done it, he had thought himself  _ safe _ in Cala's presence, and to find that to be false....

"I  _ did _ ." Cala stood, ears near level with his shoulders, misery and guilt writ large in every feature. "I presumed that I knew what was best for thee and I see now that I was wrong in every particular. I understand if thou wishest nothing to do with me henceforth, and I have compiled a list of other worthy academics who might be better suited to teach thee." He produced a sheet of paper from the pocket of his robe, crumpling it slightly in his tense grasp.

"I-  _ No _ ." Maia managed, staring at the paper in sudden horror. "I do not want thee to leave." Another teacher would not be Cala, another teacher would not be so bright and inviting and kind...  _ And would not care so about thy life or pains or past. But would not betray thee either _ . He felt torn apart at the knowledge of what Cala had done, but he did not want him  _ gone _ .

"This is more than I deserve, and I will do everything I possibly may to repair thy broken trust." Cala's ears began to rise slightly, the first they had done since the beginning of the conversation, and he finally met Maia's eyes. "Whatever I may do to see that Nelar never hurts thee again, whatever favors I might call in or schemes I might lay - in thy complete knowledge, this time - I will see it done."

Maia managed to smile, somehow, though he still felt chilled. Whatever Cala had done, it had been awful to see him so mired in guilt. "Hadst thou more plans?" He thought again that Setheris would soon hear of the Emperor's decision, and the chill became dread. "He will know, soon, what happened... he may take it as encouragement, or a reason for revenge."

"I fear I had little plan that did not involve thy father at least taking  _ some _ notice of the situation. Did he even seem concerned with Nelar’s blatant grasp for power via thee?"

"He thought it a foolish endeavor not worth his time. Setheris will be frustrated, and angry, to learn that the Emperor has spoiled his plans..." and as Maia knew him, he would seek an outlet besides drink for that frustration.

Cala reached forward to grasp Maia’s arm. "Are there any guards thou couldst avail thyself of? Even a spare servant who might watch over thee should he attempt anything?"

The touch was surprising but not at all unwelcome. Maia looked into Cala's earnest face and did not want to look away, or move apart. "None who could be spared, I imagine." He was far more polite to the servants than his brothers, he knew, but many still treated a once-relegated imperial son with suspicion. And Maia had none of his own, only the shared services of the maids who cleaned that wing and the pages who ferried notes from room to room.

"Then my advice would be the same as before. Keep to populated areas of the court, keep thy wits about thee and make certain that.... that if he does attempt anything that  _ someone _ is nearby to witness it." With a squeeze, Cala released Maia's arm. "If thou truly fearest that he might attempt something I would gladly see thee back to thy quarters."

The advice echoed somewhat differently now, now that Maia knew the intent that once underlaid it. But it was honest. "If thou hast the time, I would like that," he said. He did not want to leave Cala's side, and he did not want to be alone to ponder the Emperor's words until they turned bitter as tar.

Cala stood, shoving the paper back into his pocket. "Thou hadst no reason to forgive my betrayal, and I will not forget that," he told Maia quietly.

"It was well-meant," Maia said at last, "and that is more than I can say for many." He wanted to forgive Cala fully, but the thought that he had exposed him to Setheris's anger weighed sharp and cold inside him. He only hoped that would fade. Cala  _ had _ meant only to protect him, convoluted though his plan was, and his remorse had been suffering enough for that.

Cala nodded. "Lead the way. Where are thy quarters located?"

As they walked, Maia searched for other things to speak of. "You were telling me yesterday of Lord Valedar and those who opposed his plans for the University of Ashedro..."

"The educational reforms have been hotly debated since my earliest days in the Athmaz’are and they seem in no danger of being either struck down or passed in my lifetime," Cala replied. "The enfranchisement of the lower classes to study there has been a disputed topic since the universities were opened to anyone other than scions of the House of Blood, but as with all such delicate matters of class it is a topic that engenders... passionate and divisive responses."

"Education for more would surely be a good thing," Maia considered. "Unless one stands to gain from others' lack of knowledge or opportunity." He sighed. "It seems the arguments in Court have always been the same ones, and few changes are ever wrought, at least from the point of view of those not of the highest ranks."

"Change comes slowly in the Ethuveraz, but it does come. Mostly, however, through those with a vested interest in seeing the change, rather than a purely academic one." The conversation carried the two through the Untheileneise halls unmolested and to the doors of Maia's quarters where Cala paused, hovering outside. "Hast  _ anyone _ to watch over thee this night?" he asked.

"No. The fourth son does not warrant a constant guard, and I do not think my- the Emperor would spare such even if I was not displeasing to him." He thought of waking to Setheris's taunts and fists and shivered.

Cala seemed to consider this, and quickly reached a decision. "I cannot leave thee, and it does occur to me that due to thine audience earlier we have had no proper lesson this day. If thou wouldst care to occupy thy mind with something else I would gladly proceed with the day's instruction this evening."

"I would like that," Maia said, ears rising with surprise and interest. "If thou truly dost not have other appointments..." He hoped this was something Cala truly wanted, and not an attempt at penance. And then  _ watch over _ caught in his mind, and he thought for a fleeting moment of his foolish old dream of becoming his father's maza-nohecharis... "And thou plan’st to... stay? To guard?"

"In the absence of anyone else to watch over thee," Cala said, arranging the books he had brought on the single small table, "I will stay as long as thou'rt in need of a companion."

Those words, quiet and certain and promising safety, company, had Maia's heart swell and his thoughts stumble, and it was not at all unpleasant. He listened to Cala's lesson, discussed lords and schools and history and politics, and when it grew dark, for the first time he could remember he did not feel so dreadfully alone.

As Maia's head began to nod, Cala gracefully excused himself to the nearest pneumatic station to allow him his privacy in dressing for bed, saying that he must inform a colleague he would not be meeting with him that evening. Despite Maia’s concern, Cala had reassured him that the missed meeting was not of great importance. He dressed and settled into bed, thinking of how odd it would be to have someone watching as he slept, even if it was for his defense. But if it was Cala, maybe then it would not be so strange.

~//~

The room was quiet, the air still and peaceful with the only sound an occasional footstep in the hall and the quiet crack and pop of the small fire against the cool spring air, only making the bang of the door all the louder when it finally came.

"And  _ I  _ am called a traitor? Thou tale-bearing brat, thou misbegotten hobgoblin, that thou wouldst  _ dare _ to go against the sole hope thou hast in this hole thou must be more hopelessly stupid than ever I had imagined!"

Maia jerked up, heart pounding, gathering his blankets around himself as if that would do him any good at all. "He did not listen- It did not change his opinions..." He wanted to say  _ I told only the truth _ but he was defenseless and alone and there was nobody around to hear. "Thou art right, of course, I am grateful to thee-"

"Thy gratitude is of as much use to me as the driveling of thy face! If thou wilt act the fool, thinking thy father wouldst care for thy impotent suffering while slandering me in the process, it avails me less than nothing!" Viselike fingers grasped his arm with a pain like cold fire, jerking him from the bed.

He tried to pull his arm away - they were not so different in height or strength now - but his efforts had no effect at all. He protested incoherently, terrified of what Setheris had planned.

"Maia! Maia! It's all right!" The fingers were gentle, and Maia was lying down once more, not having moved an inch from the position he had drifted off in. Cala was crouched over him, eyes wide behind his spectacles. "It's all right. Only a dream. I swear."

"He- he was here-" But no, it had all been illusion, and the corridor outside was as quiet as if it had been any other night. He managed a shuddering breath, and then something tense inside him snapped and he found tears on his face and his breath coming in gasps. He leaned towards Cala, needing someone near so desperately it was pain, and there was nothing left in him to protest.

"A dream. Nothing more.” Cala drew Maia into his arms, lanky arms encircling Maia’s shoulders to hold him close as he sobbed and shivered for Maia knew not how long.“Thou'rt obviously in no fit state to be alone this night, so I will avail myself of thy couch now that I have no further obligations."

Finally Maia was composed enough to pull away and scrub at his face. 

"Art all right now?" Cala asked, leaning back a bit. "I will leave thee to thy rest, but thou needst only call and I will be there to attend to thee."

Maia hesitated. Cala quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't retire immediately. I might sit with thee if thou wouldst find that more agreeable.” He glanced toward a chair near the slightly lopsided desk in one corner.

"I... would like that," Maia said, and smiled weakly in the darkness.

Cala pulled the chair to the side of the bed. "Wouldst like a candle to burn as well?" he asked. "Or I could have the servants bring more... is it coal or wood that you burn here?"

"A candle, please.” A star in the darkness, to remind him of Cstheio’s watch. “The stove takes wood but I do not need so much now. And it would be better to not disturb anyone further..."

With a twitch of his finger Cala lit the wick, allowing the warm glow to suffuse the darkness of the room. "Need'st not fear, Maia. I will watch over thee until thou sleep'st and beyond."

A few quiet words of gratitude, and Maia lay down to sleep again, and this time, slept soundly.


	5. Chapter Five

The following morning Maia awakened to the sight of what looked like a collection of pale sticks draped with blue fabric occupying the small divan near the window. Cala had placed his glasses on the desk and had his head draped over one arm, face peaceful and breathing slow despite the odd (but also oddly graceful) angle of his neck.

It was still early enough that nobody would be seeking him (if, of course, they remembered he existed) and he felt an odd regret at the idea of waking Cala, so he took one of the books on Barizheise religion that Cala had found him and sat to read. Though he found himself somehow distracted, it was not at all an irritation.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later Cala raised himself laboriously from the sofa, blinking myopically in the morning light. "I see thou'rt putting thyself ahead on this day's lesson. Assiduous as ever," he said with a smile, groping for his spectacles.

Maia smiled back, and a few moments later thought to respond. "Oh - it isn't the one for today-" and then he realized how strange this all was, and that Cala must surely have other business to attend to that day.

"Even further ahead, then." Cala did his best to arrange himself before the single cloudy mirror over the hearth before smoothing down the front of his robe. "I will leave thee to thy morning, then, and meet with thee in the library," he said with a hurry seemingly out of place with his casual actions. "If thou'rt late I will come and find thee myself, whether thou'rt held up at breakfast or... or simply waylaid."

Of course - Cala must have his own lessons, or research, or meetings, and Maia should not so regret seeing him leave. But he would not be gone for long; there would be a lesson soon. "Of course. I hope such does not become necessary," he said, and smiled again, so Cala did not know he thought that outcome quite possible.

With a nod and a smile, Cala let himself out the door, books in hand. And that was that, and as he prepared for breakfast Maia tried to push aside a creeping doubt, that Cala had fled so fast because it had been a burden to watch him, that he did not enjoy Maia's presence as much as he had come to enjoy Cala's. It did not matter. Maia's focus should be on his lessons - and on surviving whatever consequences the appeal to the Emperor brought down upon him.

~//~

Maia entered the study room promptly as always, jerking Cala's thoughts from his hypothetical reaction to the second confession in as many days to the actual fact of the archduke's presence, a presence that never failed to enliven his day no matter the troubles that beset either of them. "I trust thou hast kept up on thy studies in thy long absence from my instruction," he said, nearly deadpan but with the hint of amusement that Maia seemed to react better to than straightforward teasing of any sort.

"I would not think of neglecting them," Maia returned.

"Good. Now. Yes. Mathematical proofs." Despite Maia's tenuous command of most mathematical subjects he returned as many right answers as he usually managed to provide, the errors easily corrected by a re-explanation of the underlying concepts. Nonetheless, the thought of the previous night dogged Cala through each step. It was no sort of permanent solution, he had known in his heart of hearts, but the thought of leaving the weeping, terrified near-child alone had kept him rooted to the spot more strongly than any maz for such a purpose. Nonetheless, the thought of the consequences of their having been seen together so… Cala blinked rapidly and reapplied himself to his explanation of terms.

"Very well done," Cala told him at the end of the lesson following his review of the neat rows of solved equations, unable to hide a smile at the pleased flush and duck of the head that seemed to come with any compliment he gave, however small.

"And tomorrow we are reviewing... the effect of the cult of Chevarimai on general devotion among the nobility?"

"Yes. With a side emphasis on similar trends in the Barizheise tendencies toward piety." Cala bit the inside of his cheek hard. This trust and attention were more than he felt he deserved after exposing Maia to Nelar’s wrath. "What occupies the rest of thy day?" he asked.

"Not a great deal. It seems my family views me with more disfavor than before, after... after my audience with the Emperor."

"It has been a single day," Cala argued. "I see no reason why they would favor thee less following a good-faith attempt to bring a problem to thy father's notice. On the other hand, I saw no reason thy father would not express  _ some _ iota of concern for the cruelty visited upon his son by his erstwhile guardian," he continued with a rueful twitch of his ears and lips alike.

Maia shook his head. "Such does not seem a factor in the Emperor's concerns. He has more important things to focus his efforts on." Though this last was said with more bitterness than honesty or belief.

"Well." Cala said, beginning an attempt to gather up his books nonchalantly. "Thou hast a library to thy family's name - a well-populated library staffed by scholars sympathetic to the pursuit of knowledge, we might add - thou mayest avail thyself of in the absence of empty social events free of anyone thou might'st wish to associate thyself with. While I have engagements elsewhere this evening I would gladly help thee find books - novels, even, scandalous as their presence here might remain - on any topic thou might'st wish in the meantime."

"Yes! I mean - I would like that. I have not had much experience save what thou hast assigned to me, but I would gladly explore what there is to be found."

"Well, if there are no further summons I imagine thou might easily spend the rest of the day here should that be amenable. I have seen how thou enjoy'st thy extracurricular reading, and I will be here studying as well for if thou wouldst care for an escort back to thy quarters once again."

Keeping half an eye on Maia, Cala busied himself with the lesson plans he had somewhat neglected over the past few fraught days in addition to the several, smaller projects Dazhis had asked him for help with in compiling a bibliography. The pleasant sensation of quiet study in the company of at least one individual whose presence he found quite agreeable carried him through the afternoon till the sky outside began to dim and the heavily-shielded gas lamps were lit by a few apprentice librarians.

~//~

It was a wholly agreeable premise. Maia could read what he liked, and he would not have to be alone to do it. And Cala's presence here would remove that faint sensation that he would be caught and punished for presuming what was beyond his right. After some time of looking, he found a volume on several gods of the past whose cults had been long forgotten, dusty enough that the book had likely been forgotten as well. He read a little in that, and then a smaller, cheaper book caught his eye: tales of pirates in the southern seas. Maia was just finishing one of the tales when he noticed that Cala was packing his things in preparation to leave. The time had gone by faster than he had anticipated, and for a moment he was disappointed, until he realized he could likely spend the next day here as well.  _ Something good might come of thy family shunning thee, _ he thought. He put the book aside and approached Cala. "Hast thou still time to walk with me?" he asked. At some point Cala had stopped seeming like a chaperone and started seeming like - the word surprised him - a friend.

"I will gladly walk with thee back to thy quarters," Cala replied carefully. "However, before we depart I feel I must say one last thing. Wouldst join me in the study room once more?" he asked, gesturing to the small chamber whence they had come.

"Of course." Maia followed, wondering what it could be that Cala could not say in the main halls of the library. Was something wrong, or did he merely wish to assign a new topic of study?

Once the door was closed, Cala took a long, slow breath. "As I said, I will gladly accompany thee through the halls and see thee to thy rooms safely. However..." Another breath, this one slightly shakier. "I enjoyed our time in thy quarters last night greatly and I hope thou didst as well. Unfortunately, I fear I can never spend the night with thee again."

"Why?" Maia frowned. What reason could there be? "Wert delayed this morning?" But he had needed Cala beside him last night, and could not regret it, though he did not like the thought that there had been any unintended consequences.

"No! No, none of those things. It is... another confession I fear I must make of information I have withheld from thee." Cala rested his face briefly in his hand before moving to meet Maia's gaze again. "It is an open secret in the Athmaz'are that I am marnis, but what may be relatively common knowledge among those circles is not often known by outsiders. I can only imagine this fact was not known by thy lord father, else someone other than me would surely have been chosen for this position. As if every man with such proclivities made it his mission to prey upon innocent young men, regardless of his having loved another dearly since his earliest days of mazeise study," he finished, unable to keep a note of bitterness from his voice.

Maia’s education had not been neglected to the point that he did not know of marnei, though he knew very little and most of it insults and curses. But Setheris was rarely accurate in his judgements of such, Maia had come to realize, and certainly Cala had shown no trace of anything deviant or dangerous.

"But thou hast shown no… intentions..."  _ Loved another, _ Cala had said, and Maia wondered why that should feel so strangely disappointing.

It was a moment before Cala responded, as if he were surprised by Maia’s answer. "I have no intentions toward thee, or toward any who is not my lover of nigh a decade. I swear it by thy mother's goddess and by all the rest," he replied. "However, the rest of the court is none so generous. Certain highborn men, and even women, may be countenanced in such preferences simply by virtue of their rank, but anyone lower born who must answer to anyone else risks anything from ostracization by the court to trial and punishment."

It did not seem fair. But then, little did. "Then it can remain a secret, and I promise thee I will say nothing of it." He could not stop himself from wondering who it was that Cala loved... but then, it did not truly matter to Maia, who did not know any other of the mazei.

"Maia, thou art a good man and I am infinitely relieved and grateful to have thy confidence," Cala replied. "I... had the list of other potential tutors prepared in case thou wert ready to dismiss me for such an obfuscation, and I am glad I have not been forced to bring it forth once more. However, thou canst see why we might never occupy such close quarters again, diverting as the previous night may have been."

Maia's ears lifted at the praise, and dropped again at the thought of replacing Cala with a new teacher. He had not felt anything amiss the previous night, but if Cala foresaw trouble, then there must be something there that Maia had not noted. "If thou thinkst it wisest, I will not protest," he said at last.

Cala smiled shakily. "In the meantime we may dedicate ourselves to finding a solution to the problem of thine erstwhile guardian, but for now... it is a great secret I have asked thee to keep, and I can once again only thank thee for thine understanding. Allow me to assure thee once again that my intentions toward thee have ever been those of simple instruction and friendship."

Having Cala's trust - it was certainly more responsibility than his family had ever seen fit for him to bear. And he would do his best to be worthy of it. "I understand. It is only that... I do not know much of marnei, besides what my cousin has said, and I do not believe his opinions are to be trusted on any matter outside of law and logic." It was strange, nothing had changed in truth, only his knowledge, but it felt different now and he hoped that would not ruin what bond they had.

"There is little to it - they are those who desire others of their own sex rather than the opposite. Greater minds than mine have debated the cause, from the accidental placement of the soul of one sex in the body of another to certain imbalances - or simple differences - of the brain's construction. There are treatises I could direct thee toward for alternate perspectives, but... well, our perusal of such would require discretion, for obvious reasons."

It was a topic he had never thought worthy of study, or even available for it. "If it would not pose a danger of discovery, I would read some of that."

"I will see what I might come by discreetly, then." Cala began to gather up his books once again. "And, as previously stated, I will gladly see thee to thy quarters this evening."

Maia stayed quiet as he and Cala walked through the halls. They were not disturbed, and it seemed both an awkwardly lengthy span of time and all too short when they arrived at Maia's quarters and Cala departed. Maia was left with a few books and his thoughts, and time enough to consider again what Cala had told him.

~//~

Cala had expected revulsion, sadness, pity, anything but the confusion and acceptance with which Maia had met his confession.  _ Thou'rt ever finding new ways to surprise me, my pupil _ .

Somehow he had finished the conversation, though he had to struggle not to keep his voice from breaking with the relief he had felt. Was the boy too shocked for a horror that would manifest itself later, or simply uneducated enough not to realize the full implications of what he had said?  _ Or, perhaps, simply capable of a tolerance so few others are _ , his treacherous mind suggested.

Heart fluttering with something between relief and renewed apprehension, he made his way along the alternately broadening and narrowing Untheileneise corridors toward the general direction of Dazhis's quarters and a hopefully relaxing evening. The sight of a familiar sour, severe face at the far end of the way from the court proper, however, stopped him dead in his tracks. "Osmer Nelar," he managed in the most neutral possible tone he could manage.

"Athmaza." The barest courtesy, for someone far lower than he. "We see you have not yet tired of the boy. This is past the usual time of any lessons, is he truly so stupid as to require all that? You do not have to go to the effort. It would only be a waste of time."

Cala's eyebrows shot up. "We thank you for your concern, Osmer, but following near two months' worth of lessons we feel that the Archduke is a bright and inquisitive young man who takes to new concepts readily. He has been a delight to teach thus far."  _ No thanks to thee, thou acrimonious vulture _ , he somehow managed to not add.

Nelar made a dismissive sound, not completely a laugh. "Truly, you can afford higher standards than that. It was a trial for us to train him in anything. But, his education is no longer any of our concern. What _ is _ of our concern is how you have evidently made no effort to discourage him from making a fool of himself before the Emperor in his ungrateful attempt to drag our status to the ground."

Cala blinked. "Excuse me? Er, us?"

"Surely you know of his pathetic speech to His Serenity yesterday. We only wonder what oversight could have allowed you to encourage such, as surely you did, for the boy has little of the initiative to enter into such things himself."

"We are not responsible for our student's every action," Cala replied, making a conscious effort to keep his ears from flying angrily and defensively back. "What he does on his own time he does in the role of an archduke of the Ethuveraz and it is not our place to keep him from such actions. Nor, we would imagine, is it yours, even as his former guardian," he finished. The gauntlet was thrown, even without the emphasis he had so desired to heap onto the world "former," and he had either sealed both their fates or opened the floor to new options.

Nelar’s eyes narrowed, as if he disliked this challenge to his status. "Well then. We are sorry that you have been assigned such a foolish student. It will not reflect well on you, if you have not taught him the sense to know his proper place."

Something broke inside Cala, and he stepped forward, face the blank, inscrutable mask he knew that the less magically inclined feared from mazei more than any display of feeling. "We know our own business, Osmer Nelar," he said, voice flatly affected enough to suggest any emotion at all, or none. "You have been absent from court these past six years, in the company of one whose current situation is so far removed from yours as to be untouchable. We entirely understand your desire for mobility within the court, but if it is to be at anyone's expense - even one whose loyalties you feel must lie with you - you might question the alternate alliances such an individual might pursue. Ones with power beyond what a courtier, no matter how highly situated, might never take possession of in their most feverish dreams."

Nelar stepped back at Cala's expression and the coldness of his voice, but he was not the sort of man to ever forget to listen to the words. A moment passed. "As you have said yourself, you are not his guardian. To threaten me goes well beyond your allowed reach into the Archduke's-" even the title was tinged with disrespect and malice "-life. If we were to report such an impropriety, someone more suited would be put to the position." 

"We have spoken no threats that would stand in a court of law. Surely you of all people must know this," Cala replied, mild blue eyes not leaving Nelar’s for a moment. "We only have our pupil's best interests in mind."

Cala was correct - and it was a game that Nelar would not lose gracefully. "Very well, we will leave you to your lessons. Though we remind you that you hold no rank in this court, and you would do well to show us proper respect." He strode off, discontent and anger obvious.

Once Nelar seemed truly gone, Cala could not help but slump against the nearest wall. It was a dangerous game, one he had once pledged to himself he would never become involved in, but if anything he had said would ultimately keep the bastard away from Maia...

Slowly, surely, he composed himself and set off once again toward Dazhis's lodgings.

~//~

"What kept thee?" Dazhis asked, no small amount of betrayal in his voice, when Cala entered the room. It was a painful reminder of how little time he had spent with his lover over the past weeks. "Surely not the Archduke?"

"Worse. Setheris Nelar." Cala stepped toward Dazhis, and then the hurt on Dazhis's face was enough to halt him in his tracks. "I stayed at the library late to find the books thou'st desired and to work on some further lesson plans, but on my way here I encountered the bastard, who proceeded to disparage Maia and to call my own capability into question. I've no doubt that he will be back, but for the present I think I managed to intimidate him sufficiently that he'll be loath to try such again."

"I can only hope thou'rt right. He sounds a detestable man." Dazhis put aside the papers on his desk, slipped a marker in a book and closed it, and then stood to embrace Cala. "Hast been so distracted, and so often away..."

Cala returned the embrace enthusiastically, nudging Dazhis's chin up with the backs of two fingers for a kiss. "It has been even worse than the month in which we completed our respective theses," he agreed, wrapping his arms around Dazhis's waist. "I cannot promise my time and mental faculties will be entirely unoccupied in coming days, but I swear to thee I will make more time for thee than I have previously."

Cala detached himself from the embrace long enough to hand Dazhis the list of books on the galvanic properties of thaumaturgical energy before stepping himself over to the small hearth to examine the kettle hanging from a single hook. "May I brew thee some tea to begin to make up for my long absence?"

"That would please us greatly," Dazhis replied, affecting a haughty tone, and then laughed. "This list will prove very useful; I thank thee for the assistance."

"It is ever my pleasure, and privilege," Cala replied, taking up the kettle to be filled from the communal pump in the hallway with a final, lingering kiss to his lover. "I look forward to seeing what thou canst glean from this. Perhaps once our revels are ended we might peruse them together," he said before stepping through the door.


	6. Chapter Six

> _ To the archduke Maia Drazhar, _
> 
> _ We feel we must apologize for the lateness of this correspondence following your recall to the Untheileniese Court. The caprices of the season have kept us from writing in anywhere near as much depth as might be required for familial courtesy and we hope you with your own no doubt busy schedule might understand and forgive us. As no personal meeting has taken place to date, we would request your company on the third of this month at the first bell of the afternoon to take luncheon with us and appraise us of your doings at court so far - doings we fear we know little of due to the various demands of the realm and our own full personal schedule.  _
> 
> _ Sincerely, your brother, Nemolis Drazhar. _

Maia read over the letter again; it was formal, but not excessively so, and carried no subtle or overt threat as Setheris's letters had. As the page who had delivered it, a boy only slightly younger than himself, stood unobtrusively in the doorway Maia found paper and a pen and quickly wrote a response agreeing to the meeting. He knew how to phrase things to be acceptable to someone of as high status as Nemolis, had known that since before his arrival here, and when he handed the letter to the page he was confident that he at least did not seem an uneducated fool. Though unless his brother wished to talk of history or religion or mathematics, he feared he would have little to say at their meeting.

"Thank you, my lord," the page told him, taking the missive and seeing himself out the door with a bow. In his wake the room was quiet in the glow of early afternoon, dust motes from the furniture (grander than anything from Edonomee, if still shabby) glinting occasionally in the shafts of light from the window and across the stack of books Maia had been plied with by a Cala no less friendly and professional than ever even following the awkward revelation of the previous week. The third was two days away, an interval which seemed to emphasize the relative alacrity at which the pace the lives of the nobility seemed to run.

Cala had assigned him several chapters on the impact of sea trade (and the Barizheiese control of such) on the Ethuveraz. It was not incredibly interesting, and he found his attention diverted several times by mentions of pirates attacking merchant convoys, but he would read it, and be prepared for the next day's lesson. He was grateful that nothing seemed to have changed since Cala's confession. It was both incredibly strange and made perfect sense. Nothing had  _ changed; _ Cala had been marnis before he told Maia of it, but now Maia could not help but note the ways in which Cala did not conform to the little Maia knew of marnei. They were supposed to lurk in taverns and dark alleys, looking for others of their type or unsuspecting young men who could be made so. A description that could not be less fitting for this maza who would risk his status and give up his time to teach Maia, to protect him.

A second knock came at the door in the midst of a lengthy description of the effects of the rise of air travel on sea trade, and the opening of the door revealed a second page hovering in the hallway outside, this one tall and lanky with a greyish, wavy cast to his hair that suggested goblin blood somewhere in his ancestry. "A message for you, my lord," he stated simply, holding out the envelope marked with Maia's name in an unpleasantly familiar, spidery hand.

Maia went cold when he saw the letter, but he took it with the appropriate courtesies. Once the page had left, he sat at the uneven desk and turned it over in his hands as if it were a death warrant. Had this been several weeks prior, he would have thrown it into the fire, damn the consequences. But something told him that would not be wise. The Emperor had refused to grant him any sort of protection from Setheris's malice. Maia could not refuse to appraise himself of his cousin's movements or intentions. For a moment he wished he could have Cala here, while he opened and read it, and then he heard the bitter echo of his father's voice telling him that an archduke should be able to defend himself. But then he thought of Cala's response to that, and how much he wanted to help... he would talk to Cala tomorrow, if he could not find an answer on his own. But he could not leave the letter. He sensed that if he did, it would sour his day with anticipation just the same as knowledge.  _ If there is a wasp in the room, I should like to know where it is,  _ he thought, unfolding the paper. 

> _ I do not know what game it is thou think'st to play shielding thyself behind a shabby, lowborn malcontent who would be so vulgar as to threaten my person with no provocation _ ,  _ but if thou wouldst imagine a maza unpromising enough to be taken from any more useful sort of study to impart knowledge to thee might prove any sort of ally in the face of the greater court's machinations I would advise you to remember who it was who first offered thee his allyship and whose allyship thou didst reject. And to watch thyself in coming days. _

The note was unsigned, the strokes of each letter written with an obvious clear precision Setheris seemed to have perfected to convey his contempt as well as any word he had ever uttered aloud.

Uncourteous, threatening, presumptuous... Maia thought that he would never find a more perfect summation of Setheris Nelar than this letter.

~//~

As Cala strode in with his usual armful of books (at some point he really would have to find the time to buy a knapsack, he reflected absently) he looked toward Maia with a friendly smile only for it to falter at the look on Maia's face. "How does the morning find thee?" he asked, silently urging Maia to not respond with bland pleasantries for once.  _ Surely thou'rt familiar enough by now that thou might'st confide in me without the usual urging... _

Maia took a breath, and pulled a letter from a pocket. "I received a message from my cousin yesterday." It was all he needed to say.

Cala sat down heavily, accepting the letter from Maia and scanning it for all of a few moments before tossing it onto the table. "I cannot help but marvel at times," he said finally, "that anyone as sweet-tempered and upright as thee might have been produced by eight years with no one's company but this creature's."

Maia looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by the praise. “What can we do?" he asked.

"I admit my ideas are still few and far between," Cala replied. "While some of my fellows in the Athmaz'are have more of a feel for court workings than I do I have few enough true contacts within the court to render any help I might give beyond the physical protection I... alluded to in Nelar's presence all but meaningless." He hesitated. "Hast any way to speak with anyone not thy father, someone who might turn a more sympathetic ear or at least speak to thee of resources for protection thou might'st draw upon as an archduke?"

"I... also received a letter from my brother Nemolis, requesting a meeting tomorrow. He may be willing to listen, or he may think in much the same vein as my father."

Cala's ears angled up with interest. "Well, as he is the first member of thine immediate family to take any sort of apparent interest in thee since thine arrival at court I ...suppose better late than never? If one were to be charitable."

That earned a small laugh. "I can only hope. In my experience his threats are only half the time worth notice, if that, but if he has been emboldened by recent events, and is growing frustrated..."

"From thine experience, thinkest such a direct expression of his sentiments might presage a further attack, if they were not to be immediately forgotten once his ire had been thus vented?"

"It certainly indicates intent, though it may only be to intimidate. But I am not  _ certain. _ "

"Well. Do what thou mayest with thy brother tomorrow and I will apply myself to finding alternative solutions should he prove unsympathetic. Perhaps the archives might speak of precedents for such things," Cala replied with a wave of his hand toward the door and the volumes beyond. "For now, though, perhaps the history of trade with Barizhan might provide a suitable distraction. I find at times that distracting myself with the problems of those gone before provides an adequate sense of distance from my own," he finished with a slight quirk of his lips.

The rest of the lesson went smoothly. Maia only missed a few questions in his preoccupation with the upcoming meeting with his brother, and Cala fully understood his distraction.

"Wouldst care to stay in the library once more, Maia? Unless hast any other engagements this evening," Cala asked him. "I fear I have a number of tasks I must accomplish elsewhere today, but I have some time before then and I know the librarians consider thy presence entirely agreeable."  _ And might possibly lift a finger to help thee an thine enemy sought to move upon thee, with the gods' luck _ .

Maia looked up from his bag. "I would like that, very much."

Cala smiled broadly and stepped with him out the door. "I will be in the natural sciences section if thou requirest any elaboration on thy topics of study ere I depart," he told Maia, stepping in that direction with a certain lightness of heart that Maia's troubles and Dazhis's discomfiture at his long absences could hardly touch upon.

~//~

Maia was struck with the thought of combing his readings for questions to ask, just so he could see Cala again that day. But no, he could ask anything tomorrow, and need not disturb his teacher, though he did not doubt that the offer was sincere. He found no urgent mysteries in the ancient mythology of the western islands, nor in the geometry of angles. When all this was finished and he sought out the book of pirate stories, another volume caught his eye.

The slender text, more a pamphlet than a proper book and illustrated as lavishly as the primitive woodblock techniques of two centuries ago might have allowed, was protruding slightly along with several other volumes from the shelf opposite the small section of novels considered worthy or interesting enough to have been catalogued by Untheileneise scholars. Presumably displaced along with its fellows by someone's careless elbow, the only reason the volume seemed of any import at all was a familiar-looking name: Kartheis Volerezh. It took a moment of contemplation on Maia's part to remember that presumably this same Volerezh had been a lesser-known poet of the court from multiple centuries back whose works Cala had offhandedly mentioned enjoying during a more routine lesson on classic literature. He skimmed through the pages. It seemed to be a collection of poems detailing the poet's romantic dealings with- no, that couldn't be right, surely it was metaphorical? He could not imagine any marnis  _ writing _ on the subject of his amorous dealings, nor that such a volume would be here in the Court library for any to find. He turned to another poem, read a few lines- and had to stop himself making a noise of surprise. The language of the poem was... shockingly explicit.

He read on: the poems ranged from a few short lines to protracted, extensive celebrations of the topic at hand, topics ranging from meditations on the gods to evocations of far-off lands to these celebrations of loves overlooked at best and punishable at worst. "Poetry," Cala had said in the same lesson, "has ever been the refuge of those who would seek to both make their meaning plain and obfuscate it for any reason from the pleasant puzzlement of the reader to the expression of the forbidden." This seemed true enough from the small amounts of poetry Maia had read in Edonomee, though the lines upon which he had opened the book seemed to contain little enough obfuscation of the topic at hand.

He did not know how long he had been reading the strange collection when he heard somebody move at the other end of the shelf. Guiltily, he flicked the book closed, as if any observer could tell what he had been reading. The newcomer, a maza in surprisingly well-kept blue robes, stepped past him and over a row to where Cala had mentioned he would be."I thought I might find thee here," he addressed Cala with a smile playing around his lips. "Does the last volume still elude us?"

"I fear so. At this point we may have to send to Ashedro after all. Perhaps the time has come for thee to apply for that stipend increase," Cala's voice replied, low but still comparatively audible in the library's silence.

A friend of Cala's? A research partner, at least. Cala had mentioned a project he was working on with someone called Dazhis. Maia did not wish to eavesdrop, but they had made little effort to speak privately. He slipped the strange book into its place on the shelf, making a mental note of its location in case he wished to return at a quieter time. The book of pirates was only a few steps away, and he could still hear Cala and the new maza's conversation.

"My request is written, though it's possible Skinflint Athmaza might direct me to request that the volume itself be sent instead of allowing me to go myself. Which would be a pity, though perhaps understandable given the resources available here." The second maza was somewhat shorter than Cala (not an uncommon status) with a neatly bound queue closer in color to silver than Cala's corn-silk hue. Cala nodded contemplatively and glanced quickly around the stacks before catching sight of Maia hovering a shelf over.

"Ah, Maia," he greeted him, stepping quickly forward. "My friend and colleague, Dazhis Athmaza. Dazhis, my storied and much-acclaimed pupil."

Maia nodded in acknowledgement and made the appropriate greetings. "What is it you are studying?" he asked, for lack of any other conversation topic, not wanting to seem unintelligent or rude to a friend of Cala's.

"The galvanic properties of certain thaumaturgical workings and their potential practical applications," Dazhis replied. "Cala has mentioned your interest in theoretical magic - it only surprises us that he has not brought you to the Athmaz'are to allow us all to talk your ears off on the subject."

"All in good time, I assure thee," Cala replied, a fond glint in his eye.

For a brief moment Maia wished he could have been a mazeise student, and be allowed to study and listen to Cala all day, to sever all troublesome ties to his family. But it was only a dream, and ridiculous, so he dismissed it.

"We would be glad to visit, given the time and the absence of other obligations." There was something about Dazhis, something between him and Cala that Maia could not quite see. He thought of what Cala had told him so recently, and of what he had been reading only minutes before- but no, it would be impolite in the extreme to make such speculations and he should not do it.

Dazhis nodded. "We would be glad to show you about the place in your tutor's company, as, we are sure, would any number of other mazei occupied with studies that might interest an archduke. Nonetheless, we have come to claim your tutor who seems entirely incapable of visiting this library without becoming distracted and thence several hours late for other engagements."

"Yes, yes. Thou'rt only jealous of my academic thoroughness, as ever," Cala laughed. "Maia, I bid thee a good afternoon and will see thee at the usual time tomorrow."

Maia remained in the library for a short time after Cala and Dazhis left, but he found his focus slipping from the books. He had finished his academic work, and the next appointments he had to concern himself with were his lesson tomorrow and his meeting with Nemolis. So he found his mind drifting back to that strange book, and to Cala and Dazhis, and he wondered why it made him so unhappy. It was not disgust, he knew that, and was surprised that it wasn't. But what it  _ was _ , he did not know.

~//~

Nemolis's apartments, Maia could not help but notice, were substantially more lavish than his, as well as bigger, although the three children Maia had been assured his brother had fathered might have contributed to the latter state of things. The small but eminently comfortable sitting room into which Maia was shown by the same page who had delivered the message was empty save for he whom Maia had been summoned to meet: tall, snow-pale and a passing double for the likeness of Varenechibel that had hung in the main hall of Edonomee for the duration of Maia's life there. He rose, arms extended, the look on his face not overtly pleased but neither disapproving or cold, merely interested and earnest.

"A good afternoon to you, brother," he greeted Maia with a firm clasp of his hands.

Maia returned the greeting as befitted his status. "We hope the past weeks have treated you well," he said. "We have been busy at lessons, and it is good to have time for family as well." He did not believe it, but it would be unkind and impolite to say otherwise. Nemolis was a potential ally if not a friend, and Maia could not afford to offend him.

Nemolis gestured that he sit, indicating to the page to leave for something. "We understand you have been applying yourself assiduously to your studies. Your nephew's tutor has observed to us that he has often seen you availing yourself of the court library," he told Maia.

"We have. Cala Athmaza has generously introduced us to the court's collection, and we are very pleased to spend time there."

"Cala Athmaza. Your own tutor?" The door opened and two unfamiliar servants entered bearing a variety of dishes, the sort of afternoon fare Maia had encountered on his visits to Arbelan Drazharan's quarters near his own that seemed suitable for the casual entertainment of another. Nemolis's grace in handling even the food without a single drop of anything touching the imperial white of his clothing's cuffs and flourishes was nothing less than inspiring, even for one who had been raised to similar standards.

"Yes- he has been teaching us in those portions of history, science, and mathematics that we did not-" it was useless to try and avoid mentioned his shameful ignorance- "-that we did not learn at Edonomee." Maia took his own portion of food, and while he was not as graceful as Nemolis, he was at least tidy and presentable.

"Have you any other such pastimes? You are past your majority, as we recall - there are numerous young men we would imagine would be pleased to make your acquaintance and divert you from constant study. For one reason or another," he continued with the hint of an ironic smile.

Maia blinked, dragged his thoughts away from that unusual book. Nemolis only meant hunting, gaming, the usual pastimes of young men. "We have not had the chance to meet many of our age yet, though we would be pleased to do so."

"We imagine there are a number of court functions upcoming where you might make the acquaintance of such young men. As well as any number of young women," Nemolis told him with a deadpan expression that could have suggested teasing or earnestness in equal measure. "Have you no servant to coordinate such things for you, or have you relied thus far upon our father's secretarial communications?"

Maia had not thought about that, that he would likely be expected to take a wife. He yet knew none of the young ladies of the court. "We do not," he admitted. "We expect it was not deemed necessary, as we have few enough appointments to coordinate." He regretted it as soon as he said it; he had not meant to be so candid, or to place an implied insult against their father.

"With your relative newness and unfamiliarity such is perhaps to be expected," Nemolis replied with the level tone of a diplomat trained from the cradle. "In these latter days, however, we would encourage you to begin reaching out to the broader court in light of your own position and relative solitude, admirable as your studious nature may be." He smiled, blunting the potential edge of the remark considerably. "It would be entirely possible that you might accompany us to such gatherings - riding, hunting, those sorts of pastimes - that it would be inappropriate for Idra, for instance, to attend. In light of your prior absence from the court we understand your relative lack of social capital thus far and would be pleased to help you gain some of the purchase you so far lack."

It was an invitation, one that Maia could not and did not wish to refuse. "We would be very pleased to accompany you, if you see it fit." Not only would it give him some companionship, it would allow him to appear a part of the court proper and not an awkward addition that did not truly belong with the whole.

"You are our kinsman, and we feel..." Nemolis paused, idly toying with his fork. "We feel that treating you otherwise would ill befit our own station and duties as an Imperial heir, let alone a man of any stripe." He settled back into his chair, allowing the servants to begin clearing away the dishes and replace them with cups of cold tea befitting the current season. "I also feel that continuing to address you with such a level of formality would be inappropriate in the extreme, and would hope that thou wilt address me similarly in coming days."

"I would, if thou wish'st." He had truly not expected such kindness, for Nemolis to act as a brother rather than a prince. For once the court did not seem so cold and devoid of friendly words. They talked a little longer, of insubstantial things, and Maia felt it both easier and more difficult than before- he knew formalities, but talking to a family member was something different.

The- meeting? audience? reunion? carried on for something like an hour longer, Nemolis engaging Maia with a variety of light but well-informed questions that were easily redirected when butting up against topics that Cala had not covered with him to date. As cooly effortless as Nemolis's manner seemed, nothing about it seemed particularly calculated or forced and he saw Maia to the door with a warm smile. "Perhaps thou might'st dine with the rest of my family here at a later date. Idra is somewhat younger than thee, but I imagine he would enjoy making thine acquaintance regardless," he told Maia.

"Of course. I would like to meet him," Maia said. To be part of the Imperial family, and counted as such! He had not hoped for such in a very long time. He was partway back to his quarters when he realized that Cala, too, would be delighted at the news, and the thought made him even happier.

~//~

Maia's chamber was dark when he returned, coals banked low in the hearth by one of the rotating slate of chambermaids who occasionally turned the room down in his absence. As he moved to light a candle, a familiar voice sounded from the corner by the window: "It is easy to like thee. More than thou'st ever thought."

Maia drifted towards Cala, somehow not nervous at all, and found he wanted to touch him, to be close...

Nothing he had read in the volume of Volerezh could have prepared him for the sweetness of Cala's lips on his, the gentleness of his hands tracing the angles of Maia's shoulders and lower down his arms to come to rest in the small of his back with a gentle suggestion that left Maia's pulse enervating every part of his body like the prelude to a storm. "How quick a study thou art," Cala murmured against his lips.

He returned the kiss - for that was what it was - with more energy than he had thought he could. He felt things at Cala's touch that he had never felt in this exact way before, not with another near. He wanted something more, something stronger, but his thoughts were not clear; still, he knew that Cala would know, would understand, would guide him.

There were no more words, only Cala's mouth on his own and Cala's hands on every part of him - stroking, kneading, cleverly touching until the darkness behind his eyes shattered into a blinding brilliance that Maia had never felt overcome him so strongly. He might have cried out, clawed at the darkness before him as the wave ebbed and he found himself alone in his bed, recalling suddenly the hours of study and quiet meditation before the dream had claimed him and with it his ignorance of the feeling that had burgeoned within him since making the acquaintance of Cala Athmaza.

It was only just dawn, long before his lesson. He cleaned himself as best he could before returning to bed, face hot, but even once he was done he could not shake the thoughts from his mind, of that book and Cala's confession and Cala's hands and Cala's smile... This was so far beyond inappropriate that he had not the words to describe it, yet he could not throw the ideas aside. He did not sleep much in the next few hours, kept awake by the knowledge that he shared something with those odd men in those poems.


	7. Chapter Seven

The morning was a cool, inviting one on the edge of summer, traces of vivid sky visible through the windows as Cala made his way, new knapsack in hand, toward the Imperial library. Maia had not arrived yet and he began to arrange the room accordingly, humming slightly off-key to himself as he drew back the blinds and arranged two chairs near the head of the table.

Maia arrived just as the clocks chimed, books in hand, seeming vaguely distracted and troubled; Cala hoped that did not bode ill.

"Good morning. How does it find thee?" Cala asked. "And perhaps more importantly, how went the meeting with thy brother?"

"Very well," Maia responded, and described his discussion with Nemolis.

"I am happy to hear that one relative of thine, at the least, is glad of thy presence here," Cala stated once Maia had finished. "And that thou'lt soon have the opportunity to spend thy time with someone other than a cloud-headed maza some five years thy senior. I would caution thee to examine any immediate offers of friendship for surety and not merely attempts to curry favor, but then I would imagine such advice would be somewhat patronizing as well as redundant."

"I would not leave thee, of course,” Maia said quickly. “There is still a great deal for thee to teach me, and I suspect I will still enjoy thy company even once I have met others of the court."

"I am pleased to hear it, as ever. Now, to the lesser Barizheise cults, ‘so named not due to a lack of prestige or regard but due to their modest yet influential circles of worship within the varied echelons of society’... sweet gods, is the entire book written like this? I admit I only skimmed it before assigning it to thee, at which time it hardly seemed so bombastic," Cala said, picking up the single tome he had managed to find on the subject and opening it to the first page before setting it decisively back down.

"In parts," Maia agreed. "The author's enthusiasm settles down midway into the chapter, not for the better, in my opinion." Their conversation continued like this, Cala asking questions of Maia regarding the material and Maia answering as best he could, or looking to the book for further information.

The painstaking attention Maia seemed to be focusing on the subject, even moreso than his usual (though thankfully lessening) fear of appearing foolish or ignorant, seemed beyond even his usual interest in the subject at hand, though Cala could not detect anything wrong per se.  _ Perhaps Nemolis Drazhar might be the ally I have not the capacity to be,  _ he thought with rue but also with a great deal of relief.

~//~

Cala was reading when Dazhis came into the room, not for study, but an adventure novel he'd borrowed from a friend. Smiling triumphantly, Dazhis waved an envelope in the air.

"Permission to travel to Ashedro to continue my research!" he announced when Cala looked up. "It didn't take too much convincing, either. Perhaps I should have asked for more."

Cala hurried over, embracing Dazhis and kissing him soundly. "My jealousy knows no bounds. As does my happiness for thee. When dost intend to depart?"

"A week's time. I wish thou couldst accompany me, but thou hast duties here." He sounded vaguely displeased at that last bit, but that was reasonable, of course.

"I dearly wish I might as well. Shouldst use whatever stipend they've allowed thee to bring me some picture postcards at the least." Cala stepped over to sit down on Dazhis's bed, undoing his hair from its plait before shaking it over his shoulders dramatically.

Dazhis sat beside him, ran his hands through Cala's hair and down his neck. "How have thy days been? Hast been so preoccupied, again..."

Cala murmured something incoherent but encouraging at the touch. "Well. Fortunately, my young charge has been approached by his older brother with overtures toward the friendship and - hopefully - protection he has so far been denied by his lord father. I fear his lessons are what has consumed the greater part of my time and energy of late, but perhaps now that he has other diversions a youth of his age and rank ought he will have less need of my time." The thought both relieved and obscurely disappointed him.

Dazhis sighed. "The boy, always the boy, Cala. Canst think of aught else? But yes, it is good that he now has access to other activities- perhaps thou wilt not feel the need to be constantly at his side." He was quiet a moment, intensifying his touches. "Quiet now, and let me enjoy thy company, for I will greatly miss it in the coming weeks."

"Well, thou  _ didst _ ask," Cala said without rancor, giving himself over to Dazhis's attentions.

~//~

Cala looked up with interest as Maia entered the room. "Good morning. How does it find thee?" he greeted Maia with a smile.

"Very well. My brother led a hunting expedition," hence his missing two days of lessons, "and while I didn't manage to catch anything, I learned a great deal about the technique." He had not the skill nor the luck to take down the weakest deer or most foolish bird, but the boys who had had shown him enough of the tactics for him to understand in theory, if not in practice. And they had invited him to a dog race in the coming weeks. Some - most, to be truthful - were obviously just searching for high-ranking contacts, but a few seemed genuinely interested in speaking to him. But none _ attracted  _ him in the way Cala did.

"I have never been hunting in my life, I admit." Cala squared off the papers he had been scanning, gazing over the rims of his glasses at Maia with interest. "Perhaps thou might'st regale me with some of the details after the lesson. I would be interested to hear of such a thing."

"I would," he said, and then Cala asked him about a particular explorer, and he answered with what he remembered from the book. They finished that topic and moved on to another, and this lasted them through most of the allotted time. And Cala asked about the hunting trip again, and Maia told him of Pana's bragging and Beris silently taking down the bird while Pana talked endlessly of how he  _ would _ have done it, of how one of the horses had avoided a particular bit of the forest only for them to later find a dangerous snake nesting there. The killing didn't appeal to Maia at all, but it was an alien and joyous experience to be part of a cheering group, where friendly insults and informal banter took precedence over true cruelty or political droning on. And he told Cala of the party afterwards, where they had briefly met the two sisters of one of the boys, before they were shuffled off to their own tasks.

Cala listened attentively, inquiring as to further details where relevant. "I am glad thou'rt enjoying such diversions as thy brother has been able to open to thee, particularly meeting the youths of thine own age so absent in the time of thy relegation," he mentioned, following Maia's description of the party. "And maidens, of course," he added with a hint of gentle amusement in his eyes.

The girls had been beautiful, yes. He had heard the boys whisper of taking them to their beds, and Maia had wondered if he might enjoy the same when he remembered that dream from the night of Nemolis's meeting, and the ones that had followed it. Blessedly, the embarrassment that followed that thought had been taken for interest in the girls, and he had suffered no more than a few teasing remarks before his companions lost interest and moved to other things. "There were only those two, and that briefly. Maybe there will be more in future." Women, especially young women, he knew from Vedero's occasional bitter comments, were kept confined, away from the eyes of young men unless the woman's guardian wished to make a match. He could not see his father - or anyone else - giving much priority to selecting a wife for him, the unloved son, and he was strangely glad of it. He did not know how to keep a wife happy, and he did not wish to be a bad husband, as he knew many were.

"Hast met few others at the various other events thou'st attended, then?"

"There have been some, at dinners and in the early hours of other parties. And the others talk of them constantly." He had little confidence to speak to any of the girls. They seemed to have their own language among themselves and responded to the boys' overtures with false amusement, submissive glances away, or sometimes veiled insults. Maia could not hope to penetrate that code without making a fool of himself. And if he thought of speaking to one of them, or of doing what the boys gossiped about so readily, he found he would rather be talking to Cala, or... no, he should not think of that.

"Yes, I fear that such things rarely vary between groups of young men. In the Athmaz'are such topics of discussion were rarely avoidable." Cala began to methodically gather up the notes and books they had been perusing. "Hast any such gatherings to attend this evening, or wilt be remaining here for some time?"

"I have nothing tonight. If thou'rt not occupied... I have missed thee during these expeditions." It sounded too naked, once he had said it, and while he thought it would be taken as nothing unusual, part of him hoped...

"If thou wouldst care to speak further of aught, perhaps we might walk somewhere together. The research I have been assisting in is paused while my colleague is in Ashedro and as such I had few plans for the evening."

Maia smiled. "I would like that, greatly." Where could they go? "Are there places in the Athmaz'are where visitors are allowed?”

After a moment of musing, Cala nodded. "A teacher showing his pupil about would be positively encouraged. It is something of a walk, though, if such a thing would appeal following two days of such exertion as thou'st had."

"It is no trouble." They left the small room off the library and continued through the halls, discussing a poem Cala had given Maia to read. Nothing like that odd book - it was a short but rousing tale of a foreign king's victories celebrated by his sons.

"And thou wert worried thou wouldst have nothing to discuss with the court at large," Cala said. "Though perhaps I conflate thy peers too much with my own from the Athmaz'are, who were ever happy to discuss such tales even occasionally over the topic of young women."

"Some of them do read such things, though thou'rt correct to say the topic is most often young women. Or hunting exploits... I think they see a lot in common between the two."

"Regrettably so. I would hardly call myself an expert upon the topic, and having been educated alongside women who matched me and more as far as intellect and sheer knowledge went may have skewed my opinion somewhat, but such talk of pursuit and conquest always somewhat unnerved me."

"It is... alarming, at times, the way they talk. As if all they want is something more to boast about, and not somebody to love." He looked away from Cala at that last part, knowing how hopeless his desires were.

"Thy consideration does the Drazhada line credit," Cala commented mildly. "And what of thee? Have none of these young women thou mention'st caught thine interest so far?"

"None of them, truly," Maia said, and, without thinking, "None are anything so interesting as thee." His ears went flat, but he could think of nothing to say, no way to hide what he had so plainly revealed.

~//~

Cala, somewhat distracted by the readjustment of his knapsack, heard the words without any true understanding. Ready to laughingly return the compliment, he glanced toward Maia only for the alarm bordering on horror on his face to reveal to Cala all he might have needed to know. He opened his mouth to speak, ears twitching hard enough to provoke a small chime from his earrings, only to find himself entirely at a loss for words. _What_ , _dear gods, no_ , and _this was exactly what thou wert_ _not_ _meant to do_ flashed through his mind in succession, before he managed to settle on, "I... see."

"I- I mean. It is not..." Maia stammered.

"Maia. Please. It's all right." Cala paused in the corridor, glancing around to make certain that no one was nearby and fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands. "How... how long hast harbored such feelings?" It was probably the wrong question, and almost certainly one he would regret asking rather than immediately reassuring the boy that Cala's particular ailment did not afflict him and was surely all in his mind, but at the very least it was a place to start.

Quietly, not looking up, Maia said, "I don't know, in truth, but I have… known what I felt since the day of my meeting with Nemolis."

Cala did not know what portion of Maia’s prior adoration had been such a thing, but he suspected now that some of that feeling had been of this sort.

"I see," he said again in a blatant attempt at more time to think. "Well. Er. I am... well, undeniably flattered, but I feel there surely must be more to it than simple..." his mind banked hard away from 'lust' and settled on "...affection. I hope I might not sound full of my own self-import when I say that it seemed for many months I was the only one in all the Court who did not regard with disdain or simply ignore thee. I imagine in the turmoil of the age thou'st attained - having hardly left such an age behind myself so long ago - such a thing might very well lead to a confusion of feeling far removed from anything more... pronounced as to thine own proclivities."

"I suppose it might… I'm sorry. I will not speak of such again."

Cala bit the inside of his lip hard. He made as if to lean toward Maia for some sort of reassuring gesture, thought better of it, and then threw caution to the wind, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "For whatever it might be worth, I think no less of thee or doubt that this is how thou feel'st. Only... I would not wish this malady on any, even without the added complication of thy birth. I have been fortunate enough in my own life to be surrounded by those tolerant for the most part of eccentricity, and found amongst them one who I might love, albeit secretly. For it to affect thee, part of the Imperial line and subject to all the scrutiny such a position carries…” He took a deep breath, continuing, "Though much is made of the prerogative of nobility to do as they will, it is necessarily a double-edged sword, as I am sure thou well knowest. I care for thee greatly and harbor infinite respect for all thou hast overcome to be where thou art,  _ who _ thou art today, and that is exactly why I hope that this is only a passing freak of thy mind."

~//~

Maia felt warmed, for a few precious moments, by Cala's evident concern and regard. But what he said next chilled him. Maia had few of the benefits of his noble birth, and yet he could not act on his own, could not risk being caught in anything less than appropriate. But  _ freak of thy mind... _ if what he saw in Cala could be such, then perhaps it was his mind that was wrong, as others had always said, and wouldn't that be just as damning? 

But Cala had not reacted with disgust, or disdain, just surprise, and in that Maia found enough comfort to speak again. He had to, if he wished to salvage their relationship. Whatever limited thing it might become, after this, would be better than never being allowed to see Cala again.

"If it is... I do not know if I want it to be only false illusion." And again he said the wrong thing, stretched out this terrible thing, because he could not bear to let it go.

"Thou... thou knowest such a thing could never be between us, even were my heart not given to another."

And again he was struck with two terrible things and did not know what was worse - that Cala loved another, or that he would not consider loving Maia in return? But if there was any hope of keeping something of Cala's time, attention, regard, anything more must remain only a fancy of the mind. "Of course," he managed, too overwhelmed to know rightly if his voice shook. "I will... try to forget it, and we do not have to consider it again..." He could not forget it, but at least he could appear to, or so he hoped. And it would hurt, to feel this and know it could not be answered, but it was far better than being alone.

"I will still be thy tutor, and, I would hope, thy friend. I will gladly show thee the Athmaz'are this evening if thou would'st still see it. And... well, thou need'st hardly avoid the issue when both of us know it is there. Indeed, treating it as if it were not would undoubtedly make it worse. Perhaps this will prove a fancy, or perhaps... not, but either way, time is the key."

Maia’s heart lifted, if only a little. At least this might not be a silent tension between them. Perhaps someday in the future they could talk it through and find a resolution. But for now, he only wanted to move to safer ground. "I would, if thou'rt still willing. And I thank thee, for listening." At last he managed to look up. He wanted to say  _ understanding _ but he did not know if Cala did.

"I am, and doubtless will be as long as thou art willing to receive my instruction. Shall we away?" With a deep breath, Cala lifted his hand from Maia's shoulder at last and began to once again lead the way toward the Athmaz'are.


	8. Chapter Eight

Yet another unsettled dream had come upon Maia in the night, and as he walked through the halls to his lesson, he tried to push those thoughts away with ones of magic theory. The visit to the Athmaz'are had led into a discussion on the historical role of mazei, and over the past few days Maia had read stories of the great acts of magic of the past.

He had almost managed to distract himself when he turned a corner and froze, finding a very unwelcome sight waiting there for him. Setheris's face had the glazed, almost brittle quality it took on when he had been drinking, his eyes narrowing pointedly at Maia's approach.

"In thine ongoing insistence on ignoring my attempts at correspondence I have been forced to seek thee out once again," he said, each word bitten off as though he sought to ration every sound he made. "Are we likely to be disturbed in this part of the palace, dost think, or wilt lead us somewhere more private before thou'rt made to?"

That familiar fear- how infuriating it was to feel it again after being free of it for so long. "I cannot talk with thee now. I have an appointment," he said, backing away a little. The words were braver than he would have said before, and he hoped they weren't stupid.

Setheris came a step closer. "How soon thou forget'st the manners I labored so long to pound through thy thick skull." Another. "Thou'rt amenable enough when close to me. Perhaps I might see that bedraggled moonwit who fancies himself thy protector removed and myself instituted once again as thy teacher." Another. "Thy father clearly cares little enough for thee to give much import to who might educate thee, and perhaps more frequent prompting as to the debt thou owest me still might incite thee to do the right and proper thing."

The idea was horrifying- but it was an impotent threat. Maia tried uselessly not to shudder - Setheris advancing on him could only mean harm, and there was no way to escape, nor any other around to intercede. "Surely my father would wish to assign thee to more important duties..." he tried. Best to play the fool, let Setheris feel he'd won…

"Do not patronize me, thou damned child. Thy father has sent me no correspondence whatsoever since my recall here, which if thy feeble mind may comprehend such a thing is the reason I  _ will _ have thy cooperation." Maia was nearly backed into the wall at this point, Setheris's dark eyes locked with his. "Patronage and favor as would befit a caretaker and guardian of eight years is all I have ever asked, and thy repeated denial makes me fear that I must revisit some of the lessons thou wert taught at Edonomee." The blow seemed to come from nowhere, faster than Maia's fearful glance could comprehend even through the daze of alcohol and vicious anger Maia remembered so well - a hard slap to the side of the ear that would leave little enough mark but that Maia knew would smart for days. He fell back against the wall, ears going flat in a useless attempt to escape harm.

"He has not listened to me. I cannot help thee in this." He should lie, invent something, but he could not think of words to say that would not instantly be proven false. For all he had accomplished in the past months, Setheris could still corner him like this, still beat him and demand impossible things. The knowledge was as bitter as the fear.

"I have seen thee about the court, parading thyself - " another, harder slap that grazed Maia's temple hard enough to make his ears ring, "in all thy newfound finery amongst courtiers who deign to accept thy hobgoblin's ugliness and stammering - " the other side of his head this time - "and thou hast never deigned to raise the subject once? I might have thought - "

What Setheris might have thought Maia did not hear as he was suddenly wrenched from the ground by some force Maia could not see and slammed hard enough into the far wall to knock his head with a sickening thud and produce a yelp of all the breath he had reserved to deal forth his vitriol. A glance around the corridor revealed a familiar figure in blue robes, face drawn with both fury and the effort with which he had pitched Setheris away.

Maia looked from Setheris's crumpled form to Cala striding towards him, and for a moment he thought of Hanevis of the old tales. Still shaking, he straightened up and stepped away from the wall. "Cala-"

"Maia. Art hurt? Tell me what  _ exactly _ happened," Cala said, voice pitched the same as the day he had told Maia of his initial meeting with Setheris. He cast a wary glance toward the corner where the man in question was still held pinned to the rough stone of the wall by some magical force that Cala seemed to be maintaining with the sheer power of his will.

"He- he approached me, saying that since I had not helped him gain favor, he should be my teacher." He wrenched his eyes away from the sight of his attacker confined by magic - by Cala - and found it even harder to speak while watching his teacher and rescuer. Cala seemed bright, fierce, like mythical warriors or magical fighters. "And when I told him I could not…." Instinctively he cringed, knowing that speaking so plainly in Setheris's view was dangerous, and yet, the man could do nothing against him now.

Cala turned toward Setheris, every motion speaking of a barely restrained vehemence. "I  _ did _ tell you," he said, "that the Archduke is not, nor ever has been as helpless as you have presumed him since leaving your grasping clutches. Where you seem only capable of inflicting idle threats and resorting to impotent violence when your will is not met, you may take this small token as an indication of the true power commanded by his friends and associates." A small snap of his wrist and Setheris slumped to the floor, one broken tashin stick falling from his disarranged hair, obviously too dazed to make any account of himself even as Cala loomed over him. "An you touch him again, I will deal you far worse than this," he finished. "Come, Maia, I believe thou hast a lesson to attend."

"Yes. Of course." He spared one last look back, seeing Setheris pathetic and frightened, and followed Cala. He prayed that nobody else had seen, for something like this could be court gossip within a matter of hours. "I thank thee," he said, quietly, after they had walked a few steps.

Cala's pale, drawn face had slowly begun to regain its color, though his usually kind blue eyes still glittered with a feverish intensity. "How soon mayest thou meet with thy brother once again?" he asked, half-collapsing into his usual chair at the head of the study room table. "Someone who both cares for thy well-being  _ and _ might exercise power other than the thaumaturgical over the court at large must be told of this."

"I can write to him today, though he may be occupied with other matters," Maia said, and then, concern finally breaking through the shock and surprise, "Art thou all right?"

"What?" Cala half-snapped, before registering the surprise and alarm on Maia's face. "I... yes, I am all right. Only shocked and angered that he would truly attempt such a thing in a public part of the palace where anyone might see. Has he hurt thee severely?"

His ears still stung, but Setheris at least knew better than to do visible harm. "No. Though he might have, if thou hadst not stopped him. He was drunk, and that makes him careless." A pause. "What didst thou see?"

"I saw him strike thee once, while cursing thee as an ingrate. And I would readily say so in a court of law, or before thy brother, or whoever might require it, whatever threats he might level against me." Cala let out a slow breath, ears relaxing fractionally from the sides of his head. "The fact that he has done nothing so far only serves as a testament to his ultimate impotence, but someone must still be told of what he has done - and continues to do - to thee."

"I can write to my brother, and tell him when I speak to him, but though he has been of great assistance before I do not know if he will believe me."

"Then I will do everything in my power to make him believe. A testimony in court, a sworn statement before however many Witnesses might care to question me... perhaps I might board the next airship to Calestho and seek out thy former servants to have them vouch for thee. I have envied Dazhis's travels of late, perhaps a journey of my own would do me good." He made an attempt at a smile. "Provided thou wert well kept in my absence, of course."

Maia frowned in thought. "He is skilled at twisting words. The Court does not trust him, true, but he might convince them otherwise... but I will speak with my brother, and report his response."

"Do what thou mayest, then, and I will see that thou art safe by whatever means I may." Cala ran a hand over his hair distractedly before regarding Maia once again. "I imagine thou art in no fit state to absorb the lesson I have for thee and would not be offended if thou wouldst rather speak of other things for our allocated time. Unless focusing thy mind on something concrete would help divert it from these events."

He suspected Cala was right. Though he was usually skilled at focusing despite distractions, the encounter with Setheris had shaken him badly. "If thou'rt willing. Though little has happened in the past week-" if one did not count Maia's accidental confession of several days previous, of course. He spoke of the boys of the court- he had received a few letters, but they were all occupied with their families and Court affairs and parties had not been held.

The hours passed until Cala paused, stepping out the door to glance at the clock that could be seen through a window of the library. "Dost have anything to do this evening that will ensure thou'rt not alone?" he asked.

"Nothing," Maia replied. If Cala would stay with him again, as he had after the audience with the Emperor... but that could not be, now.

"Then wouldst care to stay in the library once again? I might see thee to thy chambers later, of course."

"Yes. I will not be missed if I stay, and... I would be grateful for the company."

Cala nodded. "Art reading anything interesting in thy spare time of late? I would be glad for recommendations on the off-chance I've not read it yet."

Maia told him of the pirate tales, and of another book on seafaring he had discovered, and tried to keep his mind far away from Setheris.

~//~

As the door of the small study room swung open under Maia's hand he was greeted by the sight not of Cala at the far end of the room, but of the page boy who worked for his brother. "The Archduke Nemolis has requested that I bring you to his chambers," he told Maia, fingers playing restlessly over the hem of his jacket but otherwise entirely composed and disinterested.

Maia frowned, but regained a neutral expression and let the page lead him through the halls. Where was Cala? He was certainly not upset to see his brother again, but why now? 

"Has Cala Athmaza been told of this?" he asked the page.

"We only have our instructions, your lordship. Forgive us. We imagine your brother will know more."

The fifteen-odd minute walk to his brother's quarters dragged interminably until Maia was led through a small antechamber into the same room in which he had dined with Nemolis so many weeks prior. Nemolis was seated at the table but looked sharply up as Maia entered, his gaze meeting Maia's with something like agitated bemusement.

"Maia. Please. Sit down." He gestured toward the pageboy, who disappeared through the door. "Wilt thou please tell me, in as many words as will be clear and precise, exactly what happened to thee yesterday in the company of Setheris Nelar and Cala Athmaza?"

Maia went cold. But Nemolis should understand, if he explained. "Setheris confronted me on my way to a lesson with Cala," he began, and though it took some effort, relayed the story, as plainly as he could, trying not to remember his ill-fated audience with his father.

Nemolis listened attentively, face betraying little apart from the occasional indication that Maia continue. "I see. Thank you for your account," he said, allowing his posture and expression to relax into something resembling empathy, even discomfiture. "Has either man attempted to contact thee privately since yesterday?"

"No. Not since the lesson." Maia was feeling more and more uneasy. What was this about. "Brother, has something happened?"

With a deep breath, Nemolis began, "Yesterday evening, Osmer Nelar approached the Untheileneise Guard demanding that Cala Athmaza be arrested for an assault against his person. Despite a number of... acquaintances in the guard he apparently possesses through his wife's family, he was able only to persuade them to question the Athmaza for a preliminary investigation. However, when they appeared at his quarters the Athmaza pressed upon them a sworn statement he had written that he had seen Nelar assault  _ thee _ and acted in thy defense. Nelar denied having harmed thee, and the admission of guilt from the Athmaza was enough for him to have been placed under house arrest in his quarters for the time being until the appointed Witnesses may determine anything further." He paused, looking up in something between confusion, amusement and despair. "What is it thou hast brought down upon thyself, my brother?"

No, no this couldn't be. Cala had acted only in his defense. And now he was to be punished for it? But, Maia thought bitterly, of course it would be so. Setheris had his twisted legal logic and Court contacts in his favor, and Cala and Maia had no prestige, no influence. Only Cala's magic and Maia's pitiful inability to solve his own problems.

"What can we do? Cala is right, and my cousin is  _ lying _ ..." He paused, fearing Nemolis's reaction to the bald accusation.

"I by no means disbelieve thee," Nemolis replied. "Our father had spoken of Nelar's antagonism toward thee, but in such dismissive terms that I had imagined such antagonism would disappear once thou wert taken under the wing of those more powerful than himself. I... am ashamed to say that I was wrong." He drew another deep breath, holding up a hand before Maia could interrupt. "However, regardless of Nelar's reputation and behavior the fact that he was dealt visible physical harm by a baseborn individual, apparently defending one upon whom there is no visual mark, makes things more difficult from a legal perspective, particularly if he intends to make things particularly difficult for the Athmaza to assuage his own wounded pride." He briefly rested the bridge of his nose between two knuckles. "I will do my best to see this smoothed over, but it may require a great deal of cooperation from thee."

"I will do whatever is needed," Maia said. Everything Nemolis said was true. The odds were stacked against them if they hoped to right this injustice. And very little in Maia's life so far had taught him that injustice could be remedied under such conditions. "May I speak to Cala?" he asked. At least to let him know they had Nemolis's support.

"I think it would be the most expedient to keep thine overt involvement as discreet as possible, at least for the time being," Nemolis told him. "However, if thou wouldst send him a message of any sort I will have my page bear it to him in his quarters."

What could he say? But he felt he must tell Cala  _ something _ , and after a few minutes of thought, wrote out a letter. The bare details: that Maia knew what had happened. That Nemolis knew, and that he believed them. And because he couldn't leave it on that impersonal note, an assurance that Maia would continue his studies. That he was sorry that his situation had led to such a turn of events.

Nemolis called in the pageboy once more with instructions to deliver it to Cala's quarters personally. Face still grave, he stood, reaching out to clasp Maia's hands briefly. "I will speak to our father regarding finding thee a new tutor. For the time being," he added at the stricken expression on Maia's face.

"Yes. Of course." It felt like abandoning Cala, but he could not simply ignore his studies, or carry them on to any useful extent with his only teacher locked away. Maia chose to think on that, and not what his father would think upon hearing of this affair.

"As soon as the Witnesses are ready to hear thy pronouncement, I will inform thee and we will proceed thence," Nemolis told him, stepping with him toward the door. "I imagine I will see thee at the orchestral performance this evening after we dine - perhaps we might speak further there, an there is anything further to speak of."

"Yes. I will attend. And I thank thee for all thy help in this matter."

"As this falls beneath the Emperor's notice as a smaller matter of the court, it has thus fallen to me to see it resolved, and I intend to see it through in all particulars." He inclined his chin slightly, a warmer gesture than Varenechibel had made it seem so many weeks past. "Be assured, nothing terrible will happen to thy tutor unless he is guilty of something far greater than defending thy person."

He was right - as long as Setheris did not invent another sordid tale, as long as Nemolis could prevail upon the Emperor and Witnesses to treat Cala fairly. But Maia was not all all certain that would be the case. He left his brother's chambers, fearing the worst.


	9. Chapter Nine

It was fifteen steps from one end of Cala's chamber to another at the least cluttered point - less cluttered than usual considering the dearth of things to do and the necessity to occupy his mind with  _ something _ . He had hoped that the Witness's examination would have set his mind at ease somewhat, but the questions of what he might have said, or simply implied, that a trained examiner of criminal suspects might have seen, goaded him like the touch of a barbed whip along the paths of his thoughts. The creak of the door startled him nearly enough to knock his glasses off his nose as his head jerked up at the sound.

"Cala?" Maia's voice was soft, guilty. "They said I could see thee, if only for a short time. How were the examinations?"

The guard, who had been about to announce the archduke's presence, gave Maia a startled look but stepped aside nonetheless, closing the door behind him. Cala took a shaky breath, his heart soaring despite himself. "As well as might be expected. And thine own? Hast been questioned yet?"

"Only by my brother. The Witnesses have not seen fit to question me yet." Maia shook his head. "It should be so  _ simple _ . We have told nothing but the truth! And yet my cousin can subvert that so easily."

Cala nodded along even as he fought every urge to rail to the gods, to the court, to absent Dazhis, to  _ anyone _ of any thinking, reasoning man who would act with such malicious cruelty. He could think of no response save for, "It is the way of things. And yet, despite all of this I cannot bring myself to regret what I have done for any reason, come what may."

"I only.... Could I have acted any differently, and avoided all this?"

"Maia, surely thou... no I imagine thou dost not understand, thou'st never been  _ allowed _ to understand that the blame for none of this misfortune falls to thee. It falls to thy cousin who chose to assault an innocent barely out of childhood within his own home from the poison of his own sense of self-import and wronged pride. And it falls to me for… responding as I did. But none of this,  _ none _ of this, may be laid upon thee. I swear it to thee by thy mother's goddess and by all the rest."

A few silent moments passed, and then Maia said, "What are we to do? Have the Witnesses given any indication whether they chose to believe thee?"

"I have little idea, and it avails little in any case if Nelar wishes to pursue this matter to court. Which I have little doubt he will." Cala fought the urge to bury his face in his hands, a gesture that would no doubt upset Maia further. "I might only ask that... well, that thou'lt be as diligent in thy studies as ever in the meanwhile, and if thou couldst testify for me at any point during the proceedings..." He let the question trail into silence.

"Yes. I will continue my studies, and if I am asked to speak, or given any chance to, I will tell them of thy... of the truth of the events." Maia lowered his head. "I have been assigned a new teacher, though I have not met him yet."

Cala nodded. "I only wish that in the absence of any conviction I might be allowed to continue thy lessons, if only for something to occupy my days," he said with the echo of an ironic smile. "The company would also be a great improvement."

"I wish it could be so. I will visit when I am able, but I fear it might not be allowed often, for all I should hold rank here."

"As thy friend I would welcome thy visits, but as thine instructor and elder I would encourage thee not to distract thyself overmuch from thy usual pastimes. Inasmuch as such a thing might be possible," Cala replied. He held up a finger before reaching into a small side drawer in his desk, presenting Maia with a letter simply labeled with his name. "Open it in private," he told Maia in a low voice with a nervous glance toward the door.

Maia took the letter and stepped reluctantly towards the door. "I will," he said, and then the guard opened the door without even a knock and he was told, in a voice that allowed no protest, that he was to leave.

~//~

Minutes later, before the window of his chamber, Maia broke open the wax seal obscuring Cala's neat, spidery handwriting.

> _ Maia - Please burn this letter as soon as thou'st read it, for reasons that will quickly become apparent. I know little of thy guardian, but an he is anywhere near as well-versed in his trade as he seems to think he is I have little doubt that at some point my particular malady will come to light. If thou'st ever harbored love of any sort for me, I beg thee,  _ _ do not say anything _ _ on the subject of our conversation on the way to the Athmaz'are. It falls to thee and the dictates of thine own conscience whether to confirm or deny that thou knew'st such a thing of me, but to implicate thyself in such a thing would only make things far, far worse for both of us, even to the point that thy noble blood might not keep thee from social disapprobation at the least or more forceful methods of curing such a thing at worst, and to add such a thing to whatever punishment I might endure for the rest would bring me nigh unto breaking if it did not break me outright. I hold thee in the highest affection and respect still, and I remain thy tutor and (I might dare to hope) friend, Cala Athmaza. _

Maia read the letter over three times, though his heart ached worse and his ears drooped lower each time he had to see Cala's hopeless, pleading words. Finally, he stood up, and tossed it into the fire, superstitiously hoping that by doing so he wasn't invoking some bad omen. He would not speak of their conversation, or even that it had happened, that much was obvious. But what was he to do if they asked after Cala's... "malady"? One that Maia found himself increasingly concerned he might share? If he denied knowledge... lying to a Witness was a great risk even if it succeeded, and Maia was not at all sure he could be convincing under those pressures. Oh, for this all to be over, or to go back to how it had been! But that could not be. He would have to wait, and see what came next, and how he would face it.

~//~

The small supply of books he had not yet read had dwindled to the point that Cala almost welcomed the Witness's arrival as an opportunity to postpone finishing the final cheaply printed novel he had been devouring for the past few days in the absence of any other pastimes within the tiny confines of his quarters. It was a step in comfort above the Esthora'mire, no doubt, but Cala would almost have welcomed a cell if only for the potential of someone else to  _ talk _ to in his confinement, or at least less of a sense of loneliness. More and more he thought of his lessons with Maia, the time in which he had so enjoyed watching the terrified, cringing shadow grow into a still-reticent but undeniably bright, inquisitive, and genuinely interested friend whose gentleness and - Cala shut the book with a snap, placing it onto the desk beside the single candle he had afforded himself for the evening possibly harder than necessary. Pining of any sort, whether for him or Dazhis or any of the others denied to him in this confinement, would help nothing.

There was a sound outside his door, some arriving messenger addressing the stone-silent guardsman, and then the door was opened and a neatly-dressed elf of near his height entered. "Good afternoon, Athmaza," he said, giving a polite nod. “We are Lelis Arrezh, the Witness for the Judiciate assigned to your initial examination.” 

Cala straightened, turning his chair to face the single other one he had apparently been afforded for these audiences. "Good afternoon," he replied, bowing slightly, ears as neutral as possible.

Mer Arrezh sat and opened his notebook. "We have questioned Osmer Nelar regarding your previous statements, and have further questions to ask of you. Did you meet with the Archduke outside of his lessons?"

_ Straight to the point, apparently, _ Cala thought. He paused, then stated, "At times we had the occasion to remain with him once the lessons proper had ended, at which time we would generally remain in the court library. At times I occasionally escorted him to his quarters as well, due to his fear of Osmer Nelar's retaliation for the perceived slights I have detailed." Had anyone witnessed their departing together? Their having shared a room once? If only there were some way to know for sure.

Mer Arrezh nodded, wrote something down. "And you say you had not witnessed any acts of retaliation before the incident you described last time we met?"

"Witnessed, no. Only seen the letter that he wrote to the Archduke which essentially constituted a veiled threat. If the Archduke still has it on his person perhaps it might be brought forward as evidence," Cala offered, trying not to look overly hopeful either at that thought or at the change of topic.

He continued, in that same steady voice, "We see. And these times you remained with the Archduke, were they solely for his protection? Or did you wish also to extend his lessons, or offer companionship? It does not appear that he had much of the latter available to him in recent years."

Cala drew a deep breath. "Where we extended his lessons it was ever at his request. From the first he was a very invested pupil, particularly in areas such as history and theology which particularly drew his interest." Another deep breath which he was sure made it look as though he was struggling for time even more than he was. "We would be lying if we said that companionship was never in our mind - as you say, in the years of his relegation he had few to speak with and fewer friends. Our own genuine regard for him did inform attempts to cultivate true friendship with him, although we ever endeavored to keep such attempts appropriate for our relative social positions and ages."

Another nod, the scratching of a pen. "Osmer Nelar has claimed that your interactions with the Archduke were not as appropriate as you say. He has told us that you sought to claim favors from him, and introduce him to inappropriate practices." Nothing in his voice indicated the severity of what he implied.

The bottom dropped out of Cala's heart. For all his suspicions that Nelar could uncover the truth - how secret could it possibly have been in the Athmaz'are, even never having specifically told a soul, even with their own relative caution in all parts outside the academic spheres, after all? - the reality of the accusation was like a rush of cold water dragging him down into lightless ocean depths. Digging his nails momentarily into his palms, he began carefully: "What  _ exact _ sorts of favors and practices does he accuse us of?" His voice was more level and calm than he had ever actively noticed it to be, and he could not help but marvel at it.

"In short, he claims that you are marnis, and have perverse intentions towards the Archduke."

Cala swallowed hard. "We. Ah." He forced himself to meet the Witness's eyes. "We... cannot in any good conscience deny a part of that sentence to a judicial Witness. It is true that we are marnis. The fact has been an open secret in the Athmaz'are since we were a novice and took up with a fellow novice, with whom we have spent the subsequent years as an exclusive... pair." He felt lightheaded - was it possible he might swoon? "However, we are willing to swear on whatever is required of us that we never harbored such intentions toward the Archduke, nor indeed to any but the one who has held our devotion since we were able to quantify such things. We count Maia Drazhar as one we hold in very high esteem and whose tutor we are proud to have been - " (merciful goddesses, was his grammar always this terrible when he was flustered?) "but we would have exiled ourself from his presence readily had we ever found ourself entertaining such thoughts toward him."

Arrezh made no visible reaction of believing or disbelieving, or of disgust, or indeed of any other response. "We would speak to this fellow, to confirm your story. What is his name?"

Cala bit the inside of his cheek hard. It was everything he had feared, and more. He had told himself that even if he were found out that Dazhis would not be, if Dazhis were found out that he would not be implicated as unnatural or unfitting of his position, but... "Will he be arrested, or scrutinized?" he blurted.

"No. He will merely be questioned, to verify your statements. He will be invited as a character witness; your relationship will not be spoken of outside of the private interview."

Cala resisted the urge to sigh with relief. "Dazhis Athmaza. He is currently in Ashedro for a research endeavor and should return on the twenty-first of the month."

Another note. Arrezh looked up again, and asked, "Did the Archduke know of your relationships or your preferences?"

"...Yes. We had informed him near the beginning of our time as pupil and student. He seemed surprised, but also reassured by our statement that we had no designs on him and did not seem revolted, or indeed put off at all beyond initial confusion."  _ If only he had _ , Cala reflected bitterly.

Arrezh nodded, and closed his notebook. "That will be all for now. Thank you for your time." He departed, leaving Cala in silence.

~//~

The first Witness for the Judiciate who had heard Maia's side of the story had been an old, mild-mannered man who asked the relevant questions rotely, nodding in comprehension and very occasionally asking for clarification on some small point. Following the summons for a second one, however, he had been shown into a public audience room which contained his brother and a tall, crane-like Witness who regarded him severely over the memorandum book in his hand.

"Maia," Nemolis said, rising to greet him with a bow. "I fear that certain recent developments in current matters have necessitated further answers from thee. This is Mer Arrezh, who will take at the most half an hour of thy day," he said, indicating the crane who inclined his head respectfully.

Fighting a rising unease, Maia greeted the Witness respectfully and readied himself as best he could for whatever he would be asked. "What has happened?" he asked.

"Your Grace," Mer Arrezh said, turning to Nemolis, "it may be for the best if you are absent from the room while I conduct this questioning. The nature of the investigation-"

"We understand. You may find us in our office when it is concluded," Nemolis replied, stepping through the door with an unreadable expression that did not disguise the slightly pinned state of his ears. Mer Arrezh, meanwhile, turned on Maia, pale eyes intense over the reading glasses set low on his nose.

"Thank you for meeting with us at such short notice, your lordship. Will you sit?" he asked, indicating a chair.

With effort, Maia forced his ears level. Whatever it was the Witness had to say, it could not bode well for either him or Cala. He sat, and asked, surprised at how steady his voice stayed, "What did you wish to ask us?"

"First, allow us to establish the facts. The official record states that Cala Athmaza was assigned as your tutor..." Mer Arrezh consulted his ledger- "one week following your return to the Untheileneise Court. Is this correct?"

"That is correct," Maia said. Simple things so far, but he could not expect the questioning to continue as such.

"And he has been your tutor for the five following months, correct? How often would you say you have seen him each week, in or out of your lessons?"

"We met him for lessons four days a week, and occasionally saw him in the library while we were studying." It was the truth. The other times... they were not 'often' and therefore were not relevant here.

"And how often did you encounter him outside of your lessons?"

"We did not meet outside of lessons." True in that all their associations had followed on from such without interlude. "He sometimes remained in the library afterward, but we were engaged in our own studies at those times."

"We see." With a glance down at his book, Mer Arrezh scrawled a few lines in a close, near-indecipherable script that might have been some sort of shorthand. "Did he ever  _ ask _ to meet with you outside of your lessons?"

"No, he did not," Maia answered. So far he had not been forced to lie outright.... but an awful feeling of foreboding about this line of questioning was growing in him.

"We see. Did you ever ask to meet with him?" At Maia's hesitance, he added, "Your brother the crown prince has apprised us of a certain amount of... neglect by the court at large which you were subjected to in the early months of your time here. It would have been understandable if you had reached out to one with whom you had even a small amount of contact."

The apparent sympathy did not comfort him at all. "We sometimes spoke with him regarding our life and appointments at court, but we did not ask to meet him outside of lessons." Only to stay by his side when they ended. "He gave us so much of his time in lessons, and we did not wish to demand more." It was a personal confession, but if he remained so stiff the Witness might suspect him of hiding something.

A few more short lines of scribbling. "We understand that you have held him in very high esteem. How would you describe your working relationship?"

"He has taught us in many subjects, with patience and kindness. It has been a good experience. We would hope to say we are friends, but we have not seen him in social contexts, as we have our other friends at court."

"We see," Mer Arrezh said again, voice as affectless as the tick of a clock. "What did you know of his life outside your studies? What information did he choose to share with you?"

"He said he has been working on a research project, about, we believe, the practical uses of various enchantments, but we do not know any details of that."

More nodding, more shorthand. "What subjects did you study under his tutelage?"

"History, natural science, magical theory," Maia began, and listed off the various things they had reviewed. So far this was nothing worse than the first session, but he could still not tell how the Witnesses leaned.

"What particular areas of history had you studied by the time that the Athmaza was removed from his position?"

"From the Edreveneveise conquests to the Sarenavar debates on education, with focus on the development of governmental structure and the differing effects on the close and distant principalities."

"We see. And what areas of literature and poetry?"

Maia listed them. Aside from a few obscure authors Cala was particularly fond of, his studies had been in the common canon. That strange book did not count; he had not been assigned it nor had he discussed it in depth with Cala.

"We see," Mer Arrezh said for what must surely have been the hundredth time, his ears twitching slightly with what might have been any number of emotions. The line of questioning continued for the projected half-hour, always skirting the issue of Cala's personal involvement with him but never directly lighting upon anything more untoward or concrete than vague speculation. Eventually, the Witness closed his book with a soft flap of paper. "We thank you for answering our questions in the pursuit of justice, your lordship," he told Maia, eyes still fixed on his over the rims of his spectacles. "If you will allow us to summon your brother here we will excuse ourself from your time."

"Of course. We thank you." Nemolis arrived quickly enough after the page was sent that Maia could only imagine he had been waiting, and then it was over, to Maia's immeasurable relief.

Instead of excusing Maia to go about his day, Nemolis sat down at the table opposite him, composed and proper as ever but with a twinge of worry around his eyes. "Maia," he began with a slow, measured breath. "I know thou think'st very highly of Cala Athmaza and consider’st him a great friend. However, if there is  _ any _ part of the truth hast held back from anyone who has questioned thee we assure you that... well, firstly that it will not reflect poorly upon thee, and secondly that anything else thou hast to offer will help this investigation immeasurably."

Maia thought of how well Nemolis had treated him so far, how willing he had been to listen... but then he thought of Cala's letter, and the possible consequences of revealing that particular truth. "I have told what there is to say," Maia replied. "I pray it is enough for them to see that Cala only acted in my defense."

"That point, at least, is beyond question. At least from the evidence that has been gathered so far." Nemolis appeared to consider rising, his ringed hands pressing the arms of the chair, before settling himself once again. "Only know that I am of thy part in this matter and I beg thee to trust me, if thou trust'st no one else. I am thy brother, and while acting in that capacity now may not erase the sixteen years of thine absence from court I can only hope that it may serve as the prelude to a much brighter future. For both of us."


	10. Chapter Ten

"We would request time alone with the Athmaza." Maia’s voice sounded quietly outside the door of Cala’s quarters, drawing on all the power he had in name only and was not yet practiced in wielding.

"Our orders,” replied the bored young cadet whom Cala could not bring himself to resent, “are to keep a watch on this door until such time as the Athmaza is released or sent to the Esthoramire."

A short pause. "Very well," Maia continued. "We wish to speak with him in his chambers regardless."

The door swung open, the guard’s investment in the situation obviously exhausted by the recitation of his directions. As Maia entered, Cala glanced up slowly from the bed where he sat, slumped and dishevelled and too exhausted to make an effort to conceal either. His eyes were red, he knew, the lenses that covered them flecked with small patches of dried brine, and yet he could not feel anything but the dull ache he already felt at Maia seeing him so.

"Cala!" Maia stepped close, ears low. "What's happened?"

Cala drew an almost-calm breath and composed his features to something befitting the instructor and guide he still hoped himself to be. "I imagine thou know’st by now," he said, almost calmly and quietly enough to not carry through the door, "that Dazhis Athmaza was the lover I alluded to on a handful of occasions. I imagine thou also know’st that the details of my... proclivities have by now come to light. When I named him as such to the Witnesses in an attempt to show them that I had no designs upon thee or any other they sought him out in Ashedro where he had repaired to for his research." He swallowed hard. "I learned this morning that he denied our ever having been together."

Maia shook his head, seeming as disbelieving as Cala had been when first he was told. "That he would do such a thing, when thou hadst trusted him... I'm sorry."

Cala nodded, eyes fixed on a point somewhere near Maia's shoes. "It's hardly to any avail in any case," he replied. "Enough of my colleagues know, or suspect, that if the Witnesses were to bother questioning any of them they would have their answer and he would be caught out in a lie obstructing justice. I suppose I ought to take joy in that, but..." He trailed off miserably, unable to parse anything of what he  _ did _ feel beyond the crushing grief and betrayal that throbbed like a bleeding wound each time he thought on it.

"It would lead to no good consequence for any of us," Maia finished. “It is of very little matter now, I suppose, but my interviews have gone well. I can only hope they believe me."

Cala bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. "I am sure thy newfound training in rhetoric served thee well. If I might take a moment of pride in my own instruction, and in thy capacity as a pupil," he replied with the briefest flicker of proud amusement through the morass of despondency.

"It has," Maia said, ears lifting only a little. "What remains is to see if they can see how accomplished a teacher thou art."

"I very much doubt that my capacity as thy teacher is the issue at hand," Cala replied. "Since this discovery, that bastard seems to have changed his tack to my having seduced thee in every sense via some sort of insidious indoctrination all marnei carry out upon young victims, turning thee against him, thy most generous provider and guardian." Hopelessness brought a wavering uncertainty to the edge of his words once again and he quickly shut his mouth.

"The questions put to me suggested that line of thinking," Maia agreed. He sighed. "It is the farthest thing from true. But they seem determined not to listen."

Cala glanced up at him, heart dull in his chest. "Hast told anyone thou knew'st?"

"No. The direct question, at least, did not arise."

Cala sighed. "It might have been for the best, at least to exonerate thyself from the worst of the aspersions that might fall when - if - the Witnesses determine the truth. Or..." He buried his face in his hands, slumping forward to rest his arms on his knees as the helplessness rose to engulf him once again. "I have so little knowledge of these things. Perhaps it is best this way. I am sorry, to have made this thy burden. I am sorry for everything."

"No - thou acted as best thou couldst, and the troubles I brought with me compounded upon thee. If I might be selfish - I do not wish it had been different."

Cala raised his head to meet Maia's gaze for the first time since he had entered the room. "If there is one glimmer of light in this endless night," he told Maia, "it is that I have been shown who my true friends are. Painful as it has been, at times." He somehow managed not to begin weeping once again on the last sentence. "Thou shouldst go. There is little either of us might do, and I am sure hast far more important things to do with thy time."

Maia nodded. "I hope to have better news next time I see thee," he said, and turned to the door.

"Wait." Cala stood, stepping quickly, silently toward Maia. With the briefest of hesitation he embraced him with the fierce grip of a drowning man. "I do not wish it had been different either," he murmured low in Maia's ear.  _ Let them punish me, strip me of my position which I hardly require any longer in the absence of my research partner _ , he begged the gods,  _ only let Maia emerge from this unscathed. _

As Maia folded his arms around Cala, rested his head against his neck, there was nothing to say - only to wish that they would be believed, and not separated or ruined. They pulled apart slightly, and then before Cala could realize what Maia was doing, he leaned forward again and pressed his lips to Cala's.

The abject shock was enough to freeze Cala entirely in place for the space of a breath, then another, then a third. Maia's lips, the press of his slender, lissome body, set Cala's pulse pounding like an enthusiastically wielded hammer, every single (objective, he had maintained) aesthetic appreciation of his pupil's midnight-colored curls and clear, innocent grey eyes suddenly crowding his mind in a rush. Eyes wide with panic, he pulled back, hardly aware that he still retained a death grip on Maia's arms. "Maia,  _ no _ . Thou hast no idea what thou dost."

"I'm sorry- I should not have..." Maia said all in a rush, something in his eyes that was partly guilt and party desire.

To Cala's horror, he found that he did not want to send Maia away, though he must. Gathering every ounce of willpower he possessed, he stepped back, fighting to regulate his breathing and his body's sudden, entirely untoward response. "If thou tempt'st me in the hour of my weakness," he told Maia with a deep, shuddering breath, "all this will surely have been for naught."

Maia glanced to the door, and Cala bitterly regretted the presence of the guard. But even were they not at risk of being seen, this could not be so, not now.

"Thou'rt right,” Maia said. “We cannot, but... another kiss, is all I will ask."

He ought not, he  _ could _ not, yet these barriers were not enough to keep him from pulling Maia close, from burying his face in the soft waves of his hair, from raising the sharp, grey chin with two fingers before pressing their lips together for a kiss as sweet and breathless as the one Maia had pressed upon him. "Go. Now, before thou render'st us both liars before the gods' Witnesses," he begged. And all too quickly, Maia left, only turning away from Cala at the last possible moment.

Cala stood, staring at the space Maia had occupied for long moments, before lowering himself into the chair before his desk. To curse himself bitterly for his own weakness, for his trust of one who had rejected him, for the actions that had led them both to this place, seemed the first step, but the touch that still sang through his every nerve both deadened and sharpened the pain of his own weakness until he could only murmur aloud, helpless and with an edge of hysterical humor, "How time makes liars of us all."

~//~

Maia’s room was as lonely and cold as the silly romance novels would suggest, though on the surface nothing was different in the small and shabby space, and certainly none of the books Edonomee's maids had read ever involved someone like him falling for his tutor, for a maza. For a man. And now, alone but for the memory of that kiss, Maia considered once again how in accepting Cala's kindness he had ruined Cala’s life and reputation.

A knock on the door heralded the appearance of Nemolis's pageboy, the usual neatly rolled message stamped with Nemolis's seal (two cats with their tails twined together into an intricate knot) held out in one hand. The message was another summons to yet a third meeting with a judicial witness, this one early the following morning in the same audience room where he had met with Mer Arrezh the previous week.

The following morning, Maia made himself as presentable as he could and arrived at the appointed time. This time, the feeling in his chest was not just anxiety but a heavy hopeless chill. He did not know how this would end, but Setheris did not seem likely to give up until he had ruined Cala and Maia both.

Precisely on the hour the door swung open and Mer Arrezh entered, flanked by Nemolis who grasped Maia's arms briefly in greeting. "With any luck this shall be the last witnessing session that will be required of thee," he told Maia, "so answer what is put to thee as clearly and truthfully as thou might'st and hopefully we shall see an end to this soon. We will be in our office once more," he addressed Mer Arrezh, who nodded with a birdlike dip of his head and ears.

Maia desperately hoped that this would be the last, so long as that meant they could be rid of this. He looked to the Witness as Nemolis vanished through the door. "What do you wish to ask of us?"

Mer Arrezh indicated the seat, taking one himself. Maia sat. "Firstly, we understand that you have corresponded with Cala Athmaza following his house arrest, up to and including visiting his quarters. How many times would you say you have visited him since this incarceration?"

"We have visited him twice," Maia answered.

"If we may ask, what have you discussed with him during these visits?" Already a question around which he must tread carefully.

"We discussed the case, the tactics my cousin might use against me, and we discussed my lessons."

Mer Arrezh made a note of this, then glanced back up to Maia. "On the subject of your cousin, then. To establish the facts, we understand that you lived with him for the past six years before being summoned to court, in the western estate of Edonomee. Is this correct?"

"For the past eight years, we lived under the guardianship of Setheris Nelar at Edonomee, yes."

"Eight. Of course. Forgive us, we misspoke. In this time, how would you describe your relationship with Osmer Setheris Nelar?"

Maia took a breath, and spoke. "He was cold to us at the best of times, and violent at the worst. He was often drunk, and did not appreciate our presence in his household." If that barren place could be called a household.

"We see." Mer Arrezh regarded Maia over the frames of his lenses, face the picture of blank disinterestedness. "Was the rest of the household - the servants and the like - aware of this antipathy?"

"They were, and Se- and Osmer Nelar treated them little better." The fear had returned, the voice telling him that whatever he says, Setheris will hear it, and this time Cala would not be there to protect him from his wrath. But he had to say it. "Mostly, they tried to stay out of his sight."

"We see. Were we to contact the remains of the staff of Edonomee, do you feel they would corroborate your statement?"

"Yes, we believe they would. They would remember-" He had not even told Cala about this, about what the Emperor had dismissed so coldly, but it was all the proof he had of Setheris's character. And so he pulled back his sleeve and stared at the table as he explained.

Mer Arrezh's face remained entirely neutral through the recounting, nodding as needed and occasionally jotting down notes. "We thank you for your candor," he replied when Maia was finished (was that a glint of sympathy behind the thick lenses?)

A few moments of silence, in which Maia's head rang with the weight of what he had told, and then, "Do you have any more questions?"

"Only one." Mer Arrezh hesitated, pen poised over his book. "We imagine you remember the caliber of our questioning the previous time we met. Were you aware that Cala Athmaza is marnis?"

He could not lie, not now. And maybe, maybe this would untangle all their troubles... or damn them utterly. "We were." He swallowed. "He told us, after our audience with the Emperor. He offered to remove himself as our tutor and appoint another. But we-"  _ needed him, loved him, though we did not know it then _ \- "we did not see it as so great a flaw as to warrant that."

Mer Arrezh glanced up at him. "He offered to remove himself?"

"He feared that, if his... leanings should become known, his close conduct might reflect badly on us. That a young man of the imperial family deserved a teacher of better repute."

"We see." Mer Arrezh closed his notebook and stood, arranging his jacket and cuffs before bowing cordially to Maia. "We imagine we will see you at the ultimate hearing with the crown prince next week. A good afternoon to you, Archduke."

Maia stood, and nodded. "Good afternoon." It would be a long week ahead of him, and then? He did not know.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The tension in the audience room, less grand than the Verven'thelian where Maia had been privileged to attend a session of the Corazhas once (he had been summarily ignored and nearly left behind as his father strode out flanked by the nohecharei who never seemed to notice anyone but their lord) but still spacious enough to fit the three Witnesses attached to the case as well as the two plaintiffs, (warily glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room) Maia, and Nemolis, who presided over the scene from a raised seat at the end of the chamber. "The cases of both plaintiffs will now be reviewed for the record," he stated, his mien neither overly grandiose nor overly casual.

Setheris stood, and Maia fought not to shiver at the momentary look his former guardian cast at him. Setheris was far too intelligent to make his disdain plainly known. "We accuse Cala Athmaza of an unprovoked attack on our person, and of the corruption of an incompetent innocent," he began. "We have graciously spent eight years of our life raising the Archduke, despite his frequent disobedience and difficulty with basic schooling. When we were both recalled to the Court, we feared that the unfamiliar situation might present risks for the Archduke. We soon found that our fears were not unfounded. While the Athmaza was assigned as the Archduke's tutor, he has spent an inordinate amount of time in his company, and appears to have convinced him to turn against us, his provider for so many years. And when he attacked us with magic for merely approaching the Archduke, we found our suspicions as to his unsuitability proven. It will be in the Archduke's best interests to see him removed from his position and punished for the assault."

Cala's ears flattened, but he held his peace until Nemolis turned to him. "Cala Athmaza, state your own case."

Cala took a deep breath and began: "We accuse Osmer Setheris Nelar of an attack upon the person of the Archduke Maia Drazhar and of continuous attempts to intimidate and browbeat the Archduke into affording him special privileges within the Untheileneise Court, up to and including physical violence. In an effort to stop one such outburst against the Archduke we acted in his defense against Osmer Nelar in the absence of any other protection - or protector - of whom he might have availed himself. We submit that Osmer Nelar has posed a greater threat to the Archduke's wellbeing at court than any other factor since their recall from relegation and should be castigated as such."

At a nod from Nemolis, Maia rose from his seat, and though he looked to his brother and not Setheris, he was all too aware of the anger, the aggression, the certainty Setheris held that his version of events would be upheld. To speak now was a greater challenge than he had ever faced. But  _ Cala _ was here, and if he did not speak and speak well they both would be damned. "Cala Athmaza is correct. Osmer Nelar has threatened us and demanded we use our status to his advantage." He stilled the shaking of his hands, raised his ears from where they had flattened in fear, and recounted several of his encounters with Setheris. "Cala Athmaza has been a valued teacher. His actions against Osmer Nelar were only in our defense."

Nemolis nodded, turning to the Witnesses who stood in a line to one side. "Mer Csovar, please state your findings in the investigation of Osmer Nelar," he told the first one, a small, orderly-looking old man who Maia had not seen during his own part of the questioning. Voice even and completely neutral, Mer Csovar began to detail the particulars of Setheris's account of events: he had approached Maia regarding his lack of communication or regard in a manner which the Athmaza had apparently interpreted as violently antagonistic and had attacked him. Setheris's further investigation into Cala's day-to-day activities via unspecified contacts in the Athmaz'are had revealed him to be one who harbored unnatural desires, known (by Setheris, at least) to be directed toward impressionable youths who could be swayed away from more wholesome influences into similar perverse existences. The sordid accusations did not seem to faze their speaker, whose dispassionate mien never wavered once despite occasional attempts at interjection from Setheris. While Setheris did not seem to have ever actively denied striking Maia he appeared to have done his best to downplay the gesture as much as possible, the hedging he had apparently done not lost in Mer Csovar's delivery in a way that left him glaring resentfully at the Witness on multiple occasions.

At Nemolis's next request, a more familiar man stepped forward. Mer Arrezh told of the accounts he had heard from both Cala and Maia. That Cala had feared for Maia's safety after meeting Setheris, and had accompanied him where he could. That he had been told by Maia of past abuse and threats from Setheris. And that his investigations in the Athmaz'are had revealed no tendency on Cala's part for seeking the company of young boys for any perverse purpose. Maia noted that the Witness said nothing of grown men.

The last Witness, the old man who had apparently questioned all three of those involved, seemed to mainly be there to summarize what had come before. While Setheris's story did not seem to change in any particulars the hedging present in Csovar's summary was still present - as, Maia noticed with a sinking heart, was his own. Maia had known, or perhaps not known, of his tutor's proclivities, having mentioned nothing of it in the initial two examinations. Cala had said nothing of such proclivities until directly asked, at which point he had confessed to them and to his pupil's knowledge of them but been unsure of Maia's reaction, or possibly accepted completely considering Maia's desire to remain his pupil.

"Setheris Nelar," Nemolis asked after what felt like several aeons, "do you deny having struck the Archduke in the confrontation cited by these Witnesses?"

Setheris glowered, but answered. "We do not deny it. We will, however, remind those present that the Archduke was behaving exceptionally uncooperatively at the time, and disrespecting us who cared for him in our relegation."

"Cala Athmaza," Nemolis continued, "do you deny having assaulted Osmer Nelar by means of the mazeise arts?"

"We do not, for reasons that have already been reviewed," Cala replied, as tense and uncomfortable as Maia had ever seen him.

"Maia Drazhar." The tone of Nemolis's voice was unchanged as his gaze lighted upon Maia. "Do you state, as the observer of this confrontation, that your account of events and of the circumstances surrounding them is true in all particulars, before the Imperial court and before the gods whose Witnesses stand for the justice of the realm?"

"We do," Maia said, "before the Court, the Witnesses, and the gods." Ritual words he had seen in Setheris's books but never thought he'd say himself.  _ Let them see the truth, _ he prayed, and then wondered if he should instead wish,  _ let them rule in Cala's favor _ , for the absolute truth would surely lead to the horrifying consequences Cala had alluded to in his letter. He raised his eyes, for he did not wish to look like a child now, and watched his brother's face.

"Having reviewed the statements of Witnesses and claimants," Nemolis began, regarding the assembled group with an impassive stare reminiscent of the Emperor's, "we find the claims made upon the characters of each involved party irrelevant in the face of precedent. In light of the reasons for Osmer Nelar's initial relegation from court, as well as the testimonies provided by the Archduke and Cala Athmaza, we find Osmer Nelar - " Maia tensed, though he already suspected Nemolis’s decision - "guilty of assault upon a member of the Imperial family with intent to harm and coerce. As such, we stipulate that Osmer Nelar and his household will be restricted entry to the Untheileneise Court for the following year, with his return contingent upon his cessation of all contact with the Archduke Maia Drazhar. If you dispute this claim, Osmer Nelar, an appeal to a higher authority may be filed within ninety days of this pronouncement, to be accepted or declined at the discretion of the higher authority. Is our pronouncement heard and understood?"

Maia knew that rage in Setheris's face, but he had rarely seen it so quickly swallowed; even Setheris knew better than to protest a Prince's decision. And of course the only "higher authority" in existence, barring the unlikely intervention of the gods themselves, was the Emperor, and Setheris had no reason to expect the Emperor to be sympathetic to any claim he might bring before him.

"We understand," Setheris answered, almost a growl, and the expression he cast at Maia would have set him shivering and pleading if he had not already been suffused with relief and elation at the ruling. But, Maia remembered, the tension and fear reasserting itself nearly stronger than before, Nemolis had more to say.

"We moreover find Cala Athmaza guilty of assault with premeditated intent to harm as outlined in Osmer Nelar's testimony of the Athmaza's statement following the confrontation," Nemolis continued. "We stipulate that Cala Athmaza will be similarly barred from the Untheileneise Court for a year, with his return under review by the Witnesses and the greater judicial body. As such, he will be removed from his position as the Archduke Maia's tutor-" Maia heard no more, as his breath froze in his throat, his ears that had barely lifted lowering again. He had hoped for too much. He dared a glance at Cala, and could see nothing but equal surprise. His thoughts started again far too soon, telling him he had lost any chance of seeing Cala again, that in protecting him Cala had ruined Cala’s position and reputation. That Maia's life with anyone else could only be as lonely as it was when first he arrived here.

All too soon, Cala, Setheris and the Witnesses were led from the chamber under guard, Setheris glaring daggers at all of them but holding his tongue for once. Behind them in the chamber, Nemolis turned to Maia, a troubled expression on his face at Maia's clear chagrin. "It was the best and most just answer I could find, given the circumstances, brother," he told Maia.

"I had feared far worse," Maia managed to say. He looked at his brother and fought down the helpless anger that he had ruled as he did. He thought of Cala - a painful thought, but one less likely to result in any ungrateful outbursts towards Nemolis, who had damned Setheris as much as he had damned Cala. "He was only protecting me."

"I know. Yet instead of going through any more proper channels to alert the wider court to such behavior, he chose to act rashly and violently toward a nobleman, one who asserted that the Athmaza had threatened him before, threats that the Athmaza did not deny."

Maia’s heart sank. He could not deny Nemolis's reasoning, even had he the ability to challenge the ruling. He would be appointed another teacher, and when that schooling was done he would have to find a use for himself.

Nemolis rose, stepping over to where Maia sat though stopping short of reaching out. "Only think - in less than the year designated thou wilt be past any age where tutoring would be required, perhaps on thy way to study at Ashedro if that is a path thou truly desirest. I know thou valued'st his instruction greatly, but I also know thou art more than ready and able to learn from any good instructor. And that while he may be barred from the Untheileneise Court, you are by no means barred from the city of Cetho."

Maia looked up, his ears lifting. He could still see Cala - if Cala wanted to see him. And that was a thought he could not bear; he pushed it aside and spoke before Nemolis could think him struck dumb. 

"Thou'rt right."  _ It was a fairer ruling than I had hoped for _ , he did not say, because he did not want to sound as if he doubted his brother's justice. "I will study what I am given, and I hope I will not bring such trouble again."

"Hope that  _ they _ do not and thou wilt be closer to the mark," Nemolis replied. He clasped Maia's arms briefly in parting before stepping toward the door accompanied by his ubiquitous young page. "Now that this is over I can only hope to see thee under less strained circumstances. Wouldst thou care to dine with me and the rest of my household two days from now, as we have been planning for so long?" he asked.

It had taken Nemolis only a few moments to put the whole affair aside, forget his suspicions, to again offer the family connections Maia never had and still could not fully trust. Inviting him into the Court life as if he was any other imperial brother and not disfavored as he was. "I would," he agreed.

~//~

It was upwards of two weeks before the letter arrived at Maia's quarters. 

> _ To the Archduke Maia Drazhar,  _
> 
> _ Having reestablished ourself within the Athmaz'are we have at last found the time to invite you to meet with us, if such a thing would be acceptable to either your sensibilities or your current schedule. We are free most evenings from the seventh bell onward and would happily convene at any such time you would care to specify.  _
> 
> _ Sincerely, Cala Athmaza _

The past weeks had been both strangely calm after the tense anticipation of the hearings, and unusually busy, as Maia met his new teacher and Nemolis invited him to several court functions as if to prove to the world that Maia was vindicated of all error and remained an Imperial son besides. Maia tried not to fear Cala meant to keep them apart, for surely he was busy with his own business. He barely kept his composure enough to write a reply saying he was available - not tonight, that would seem to eager, and Nemolis had secured tomorrow, but the next day was open - and hand it to the messenger. Cala wanted him, they could talk again and... but Maia knew there could be nothing more.

Following the agonizingly slow passage of the next two days, Maia left the palace in the company of the personal servant he had finally been afforded (a stocky, quiet elf some ten years his senior by the name of Laris whom Nemolis had more or less gifted him from his own household.) The carriage ride to the Athmaz'are was bumpy but uneventful and soon Maia found himself across the Ladder and in a broad reception hall across which Cala, disheveled as always and quite clearly trying not to look too eager, was advancing toward him.

Maia's ears rose when he saw Cala across the hall, looking just as he always did before all this trouble. It was all he could do not to move forward to embrace him, and instead say some unnoticeable greeting that might hide his affection to all but Cala himself.

Cala returned the greeting before bowing respectfully. "Thou look'st well, if I may continue to avail myself of the familiar," he told Maia, a spark of the old, comfortable humor flaring behind his lenses.

"My brother has kept me busy, and my teacher too. Though far more in the direction of reports rather than dinners and hunts."

"And yet thou hardly seem'st displeased," Cala replied. He cast a glance about the busy hall, then toward the large doorway toward the rest of the Athmaz'are proper. "Wouldst care to sit somewhere? Or I might show thee about the places we were not able to avail ourselves of on our last visit here."

Maia nodded a dismissal to Laris and followed Cala. "I would not reject the chance to see what thou wish'st to show, if we can have time for the first as well."

"I am sure time can be made." The general ambiance was tranquil and relatively quiet but carrying a general pleasant buzz of conversation and activity at all times, halls not crowded, but occupied enough that no one seemed to pay any attention to what anyone else was doing or speaking of as they passed each other.

"How hast thou been?" Cala asked Maia, face and ears the picture of concern now that no one seemed to be paying them any mind. "I hope that bastard has not found some other way to beleaguer thee even in his absence."

"I have heard nothing from him," Maia replied. And truly his cousin's absence had been as if a weight had been lifted from him. Though Maia doubted it was worth being separated from Cala. "And I would be glad never to hear from him again." Though Setheris must now blame him for his second exile from Court. "And thee?"

"Much of my time has been occupied with reinstating myself here." A brief pained look crossed his face, and he continued, "And speaking of Dazhis to the Witnesses whom he testified to untruthfully. He has been imprisoned in the Esthoramire to await further sentencing."

Maia frowned. "What... what do they plan for him?" A part of him wanted Dazhis far away, for how he had hurt Cala, but it would only be more pain for Cala to see his lover disgraced. And as much as he dreamed it, Maia could not take that place.

"No one has told me, and I fear to ask. Precedent for such things is harsh, and the gods only know what will happen if his sentence is passed by someone who disapproves of the surrounding circumstances as much as the lie itself." Cala sighed heavily. "And yet I can hardly bring myself to either hate him or entirely forgive him for what has passed."

Maia wondered how he would feel in such a situation- no, that was far too painful a thought. "I would feel the same," he said. "I did not mean for any of that to be so exposed. Thy fellow mazei-" 

"They have ranged from smug to sympathetic, though the latter are quite enough to see me through the worst of this. A few have told me of stipended work I might embark upon and apprised me of goings-on in my absence, and others have given me gifts or simply their own time and attention. It is undeniably pleasant to be back here among colleagues, although I have missed the court at times. Well, mainly my work there."

Maia smiled. He had nearly forgotten that the mazei would be close-knit, that Cala certainly had many friends to turn to. "I have missed it too. My new teacher, Heranu... he knows the lessons well but does not teach them with half so much interest as thou didst."

"I am sure thou art as dutiful and pleasant a pupil to him as thou wert to me." They were near to the gardens now, the cool greens of full summer inviting through the breezeway windows, and Cala stepped down a small flight of stairs and onto a stone path that seemed to lead between medicinal herbs and a stretch of thick grass possibly used for outdoor lectures. "How go thy brother's forays into familial affection? Hast met thy nephew and nieces yet?"

"Once, at a luncheon. Idra wished to know what I studied, but he spent just as much time playing with his sisters. The girls... I have not the least idea how to entertain children, but they did not cry, so I suppose that is a success." The garden was beautiful, somehow refined and natural at once, far more inviting than the carefully cultivated Court gardens, which Maia did not yet dare spend much time in.

Cala trailed his fingers along a stone wall that had been claimed by the trailing vines planted at its base on either side. "I am glad to hear it. Hast met either of thine other brothers at all yet?"

"Only from afar, back when my father deigned to invite me to anything at all. I think they have chosen to forget I exist." It did not trouble him; it was no different than it had ever been. "Hast..." and he did not know whether he wanted to ask f _ ound new research _ or  _ found a new partner _ and knew the second could never be asked. "How goes thy research?"

"I am occupied with a number of projects at the moment, most of them purely theoretical." The conversation meandered pleasantly along with their steps, often drawing close to the subject of the past several weeks but never quite lighting upon it. Maia tried not to stare, but his heart still swelled at every glance he took of Cala, this wondrous, inelegant man who had made Maia's time at court something other than a painful reminder of the family he still lacked.

"Nemolis has let me watch him decide several disputes. It is dull at times and interesting at others, but I cannot help but feel out of place when I have no duty in the proceedings." He paused, and then blurted out, "I wish he had not separated us, but the longer I think on it the less I can doubt his logic."

"I do not feel that his ruling was unjust, but I have taken heart in the fact that I have not been restricted from thy presence. I can imagine that many charged with such judgement would have been far harsher in their punishment of... one such as I," Cala replied. "He seems a good and just man, one whom I would be pleased to see rule in time."

"Yes. Far kinder than many," Maia said, and tried not to think on the audience with the Emperor, or what had followed it. He fell into silence, not sure what to say, only watching Cala and knowing he could not have more.

"Far," Cala agreed with a wry smile.

They arrived near the place where they had entered the garden and Cala indicated a stone bench on the green partly shaded by several large trees. "Wouldst sit here? Or we might avail ourselves of the refectory if thou wouldst drink with me," he told Maia.

The garden was quiet, though not private, for a few novices sat reading on the grass and anyone might enter at any moment. "We could sit here awhile," Maia said, and took a seat on the bench. Long ago he had dreamed of studying here. Dreamed his father would recognize him in some capacity, even if not as a son. Now he only dreamed that he could be useful in court, and that he could love Cala. And neither seemed possible.

"I have missed speaking with thee," Cala told Maia, tone light, as if there was not this strange thing between them.

"So have I." They were sitting so close now. Maia thought of that kiss, as he had so many times since it happened, then pushed that thought aside before he could do anything rash. "My teacher approves of my work, but it is not the same."

"This need not be the last time we meet," Cala said quickly. "So long as thou dost not neglect any of thine other duties we could meet here weekly if thou wish'st."

Maia's ears flew up. He wanted that, wanted it desperately. "It would not reflect badly upon either of us? Though I would not care so much for my own reputation, for I have very little of one."

"So long as we meet publically I see no reason that rumor would fly too dreadfully. Even in such a disreputable institution as the Athmaz'are," Cala replied, a familiar humor animating his face. "And we may always correspond by letter, of course."

But some subjects must always be avoided, even with a trusted messenger.  _ Enough of such thoughts _ , Maia told himself. He smiled. "Yes. I apologize for not sending anything sooner." He had written a letter, but had not known who to trust to deliver it, innocuous as it was.

Cala shrugged. "I imagine thou'st been busy. And will be more busy as thy stock at court increases. But to correspond with thee... I would be glad to hear of thy studies, and of thy life in general."

"I would be glad to have someone to tell, and to seek thine advice at times."

"Considering the past few weeks," Cala said with a rueful look, "I cannot vouch for the soundness of any advice I might give thee. But I will do my best." He drew another deep breath. "Maia, dost still feel what thou told'st me thou felt on our first sojourn here?"

Maia bit his lip, but did not look away from Cala when he answered, "I do."

Cala nodded slowly, and when he spoke it was with the measured pace of one with a great many thoughts to compress into mere words. "I would be a liar in the sight of gods and men were I to deny that my affection for thee has... has  _ no _ such elements. I have often had occasion to think on the last day we met before the trial, and it is by no means an unpleasant thought." He swallowed hard. "However, in addition to being five years thy senior and by far thy social inferior, leaving aside the very basic matter of my sex, thou art still hardly out of childhood with all the conflict and confusion that I left behind myself not so long ago. And to have so recently lost…” He winced.

Somehow, Maia knew what he was going to say, and wished he did not have to.

“I truly never thought Dazhis would speak against me, after so many years together. That to an extent still haunts me, as... as thou hast seen. Leaving aside any scandal that might be caused if such a thing were to be found out, I could not bring myself to take such liberties."

Maia listened, feeling himself to be balanced on the edge of despair and hope at once. He could not argue Cala's words, as much as he wanted to. Suddenly stubborn - he was not a confused child, whatever the Emperor and his brothers thought - and reaching for a last chance that would not hold, he could not help but protest weakly, "It would not be liberties." He looked away. It could not be; their circumstances forbade it.

Cala sighed. As the evening fell the garden had emptied until it seemed that only the two of them remained - a pleasant thought, if not a safe one. "And yet thou understand'st why it cannot be, under these circumstances or, most likely, any others." He gazed up at Maia, gentle blue eyes meeting vehement grey ones. "What I would encourage thee to do is to wait. Find thy place within the court. Befriend the part of thy family that cares for thee. Go to university. And if, when thou'st the measure of the world, and of thyself a bit better..." He took another deep breath. "Then perhaps we may see. In the meantime, however, I do not intend to go anywhere and will still be thy friend if thou wilt have me as such."

Maia nodded, not sure yet of words that could answer this thing Cala had offered him. Cala was right: he had the court, and his studies, and a world to explore that had been so long forbidden to him. If he went to the university, maybe for once he could feel he belonged in a space larger than Cala's classroom, and more interesting than the nobles' hunting lodges. And if Cala would be a friend through all of it, and maybe, someday, more....

"I will," he said at last. "I will do that. And I will keep thee as a valued friend, even if I am away."

At this Cala finally leaned forward, pulling Maia close for a swift but heartfelt embrace in the gathering dark. "I could ask thee for no greater reward."


End file.
